


The Space Between Your Heart and Mine

by Viridescence



Series: Orbit!Verse [4]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist!Jared, M/M, Professor!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridescence/pseuds/Viridescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because you’ve found your soul mate doesn’t mean you’ll instantly have happily ever after.  Life and family still happen, and Jensen and Jared have to learn to communicate like any ordinary couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Artist:** [meus_venator](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com)  
>  **Link to Art Post:** [GORGEOUS ART HERE!](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/14201.html)  
>  **Warnings:** The typical male/male explicit sex of multiple varieties, with boys who switch who tops as they feel like it. Some references to homophobic and misogynistic language, references to attempted (non-successful) coersion, angst, medical issues (not the Js), family angst and drama. Tense conversation that deals directly with homophobia and how poorly Jensen’s parents treated him, which may be triggery to some people. One conversation with Alan that might trigger embarrassment-squick in some people. And a dollop of schmoop on top.  
>  **Verse:** This fic is a sequel to my 2010 Big Bang fic, [Ours is a Reciprocal Gravitation Orbit](http://viridescence.livejournal.com/166073.html?view=2465209). This story occurs four years after the end of _Orbit_ , and follows two timestamps in the same verse, [Candied Yams and Sticky Conversations](http://viridescence.livejournal.com/196289.html) and [A Fork in the Road](http://viridescence.livejournal.com/190275.html). You should read all of those fics before starting this one. The whole series is available on [AO3 here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/8875).
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of FICTION. I do not own Jensen, Jared, Alan, Donna, or Oprah Winfrey, or any of the characters who have real lives, and it’s a pretty safe bet that none of this EVER happened and that this story in no way reflects the actual sexual orientation or relationships of the real people included in the story. I have no control over Oprah’s Book List, and Jensen’s fictional book certainly never actually appeared on her book list. No harm is intended. No profit is being made. I’m just borrowing their names and likenesses to play in my own alternate universe. 
> 
> **Author’s Notes:** Thank you to my betas: Pimmie, starlitshore, rurounihime, and clex_monkie89! ♥♥♥♥♥!!! I'll ramble on more about how invaluable they were in the post-fic notes. 
> 
> Title taken from a line of the Dave Matthews Band song _The Space Between_.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Also on my [LiveJournal](http://viridescence.livejournal.com/207338.html)  
> Prettified non-AO3 Downloads:  
> [PDF](http://db.tt/pKT401qT) || [EPUB](http://db.tt/Mrccg1in) || [MOBI](http://db.tt/VQia3gu6)  
> 
> 
>   
> 

  


Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Theme music played and the audience applauded as the Oprah Winfrey show came back from commercial break. The camera swooped over the crowd to focus in on the center of the stage, where Oprah sat in a plush chair. In another plush chair just to her right, a young man smiled nervously. He had light brown hair, vibrant green eyes, and freckles. He appeared to be in his late twenties, dressed in a nicely-tailored forest-green shirt and black slacks. The man took a quick sip from his mug as Oprah said something inaudible over the music, then set the cup down on a small table next to his chair.

“And we’re back!” Oprah beamed at the crowd.

The audience quieted, and she turned to face her guest.

“We have Jesse Eastland in the studio with us today! It’s Book Club Authors’ Week, and Jesse is here to talk with us about his award-winning novel, _Growing the Husband Tree_.”

The audience clapped again; Jesse waved, giving a humble quirk of his lips.

“So, Jesse, your book has been featured in my Book Club for about four years now, and it’s still one of the books I get the most feedback on. I read it again recently, and I still love it.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said, his genuinely pleased expression making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’m thrilled that you featured it in your Book Club, Oprah. It’s opened the book to a new audience, and I really appreciate that.”

“You’re very welcome. It seems to me to be a deeply personal story. Can you tell us a little more about that?”

Jesse shifted in his chair, propping one ankle on his knee. “Yes, it was very personal to me; there’s a lot of me in that book. It isn’t an autobiographical story, by any means, but I took inspiration from events in my own life. It’s difficult being a gay teenager in a world where everyone just assumes straight is the default and normal orientation—it’s even harder for kids who don’t have supportive families. Unfortunately, far too many gay and lesbian teenagers are rejected by their parents over their sexuality. I know from experience just how traumatic and damaging that can be. And that experience fed into this book.”

Oprah tilted her head, concerned. “You say that your family wasn’t supportive of your coming out?”

“My brother and my sister were supportive, yes. My older brother was the first person I came out to, actually, and he was really good about it. See, he’d been talking about one of his new friends in college who was gay, and when I saw that he was cool with having a gay best friend, I took a chance that he’d be okay with having a gay brother. He was surprised at first, but he said he’d always support me. And he always has. My younger sister has also been behind me one hundred percent from the moment I told her. My parents, on the other hand… They are very conservative, very religious, and I knew they wouldn’t accept it.”

“You know, that sounds so familiar. I’ve done a number of shows on gay issues over the years, and that’s a story that I hear repeatedly from young gays and lesbians, and from adults, too. People are terrified that their families and loved ones are going to reject them, and it drives them to hide. To deny the truth, to live inauthentic lives.”

Jesse inclined his head. “It’s tragic, what so many people go through simply because they have a different sexual orientation than their families will accept. The fear, the self-loathing, wishing you’re straight, and eventually the only choice is whether you’re going to be honest with yourself and the people in your lives, or if you’re going to live a lie.”

“That’s the only choice when it comes to being gay, really. Not whether you want to be gay or not, but whether you’re going to live your own truth.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly.”

“So you knew your parents wouldn’t approve of you being gay. How did you find the courage to come out to them?”

Jesse pressed his lips together and shook his head. “My plan was to wait until I’d graduated from high school and moved out to go to college, because they would no longer have any control over my life. Instead, late in my senior year, I was forced out of the closet. My parents found out through my high school that I was supportive of gay rights because I’d signed a student petition to start a Gay-Straight Alliance student club. When they confronted me about it, I was honest with them. I wasn’t going to lie to their faces or keep trying to conform to their expectations anymore. To say it didn’t go well is an understatement.”

There was a murmur of “aww” sounds from the audience.

“So how did it go?” Oprah asked.

“My parents tried to make me go to a religious conversion therapy camp, to turn me straight again through the power of prayer.” Jesse’s voice was cynical now, thick with emotion. “Which is impossible to do.”

Oprah’s expression was solemn. “All conversion therapy seems to accomplish is to push you deeper into the closet and convince you to lie to yourself and everyone around you. Which can’t be good for you.”

“Yes, conversion therapy is actually terribly harmful,” Jesse said. “Research has shown that now, and you won’t find a reputable professional organization that supports it. I didn’t know that back then, though. I just refused to go because I knew it wouldn’t work, and more than that, I didn’t _want_ to try to change my orientation. I’d finally told my parents the truth, and even though they rejected me for it, it felt good to be honest about it.”

“It was a huge relief, wasn’t it?”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, it was. I liked who I was, and I refused to go back to pretending to be someone else just for their sake. And because I had just turned eighteen, my parents couldn’t force me to go to conversion camp. So they kicked me out of the house instead. I stayed with a friend for the rest of the school year, and then I moved to California to go to college. I haven’t spoken with either of my parents since.”

Oprah placed her hand on his knee. “That must have been very hard.”

Jesse looked down at his hands. “It is very painful to know that the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally instead put conditions on their love and support, conditions that you could never meet. But I’ve accepted that situation now, and I try to live my life without letting it bother me anymore.”

The audience gave brief, supportive applause, and Jesse responded with a grateful smile.

“You wrote _Growing the Husband Tree_ while you were in college, correct? Those traumatic events must still have been very fresh in your mind. How did you translate your personal experience into the book?”

Jesse shifted in his chair again, moving his other ankle to his knee. “I wrote Husband Tree first as a project for one of my senior writing classes. I didn’t duplicate the events of my life in the story, but the emotions involved, the hurt and rejection, the feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy, and the anger, yes, they definitely worked their way in. In many ways, writing this book was therapeutic. It was a way for me to come to terms with what I’d been through, and to promise myself that something better was possible.”

“It’s a tremendously uplifting story, Jesse, to see how the main character, Jon, is able to survive all the pain he goes through and still find his happy ending and his true love.”

Jesse laughed softly. “Yes, it was very important to me, actually, that it be a positive story. When I wrote this book, I needed that hope in my life. I wanted to show that, despite people rejecting you, despite events in your life that hurt you or take loved ones away from you, it is still possible to live a happy life. That if you accept and love yourself no matter what other people think, you can still find love and people who care about you.”

The audience broke out into applause and cheers at that. When they quieted again, Oprah continued. “It is truly an inspirational book. One that was prophetic for you, actually—your book helped you find true love, didn’t it?”

Jesse’s face lit into a beatific smile, and the camera switched over to show a group of people sitting in the front row, centering and zooming in on one young man with long legs, olive-toned skin and jaw-length chestnut hair. The man grinned, dimples flashing and hazel eyes twinkling as he looked at Jesse. The audience seemed to understand who the young man was, and they cheered.

The view switched back to the stage where Oprah looked straight at the camera. “It’s time for another break, but when we come back, we’ll continue our conversation with Jesse Eastland to find out how his book won a Lambda Literary Award for Outstanding Gay Fiction and brought love into his life, and we’ll find out if there’s another book on the horizon. We’ll also talk to some people who say that Jesse’s book has changed their lives. Stay tuned.”

Theme music rose again, the audience clapped, and for a very brief moment before the show was replaced by a commercial, the camera showed Oprah placing a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

In a living room in Texas, a woman in her mid-fifties pressed the mute button on the television remote with trembling fingers, silencing the commercial proclaiming that “Febreeze will eliminate all pet odors from your furniture!” She reached for a box of kleenex, pulling a tissue out to wipe at her eyes. Blowing her nose, she added the used tissue to the pile in her lap.

“Oh, Jensen…” Her voice broke, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, and she reached for another tissue.

  



	2. One

  


Saturday, October 21, 2006

For being the tallest person in the house, Jared was somehow remarkably difficult to find at the moment. Jensen had stepped out onto the back porch, escaping the crowd of people inside, hoping to find his husband out here enjoying Chris and Steve’s impromptu jam session. Instead, he found more of their friends and colleagues milling about in the back yard. Mike was tossing a ball for Harley while Sandy and Sophia were giving Sadie a belly rub. There were also a number of people Jensen didn’t know—probably dates of some of Jensen’s coworkers or grad students.

They were all here to celebrate Jensen’s interview on the Oprah Winfrey show, which had aired earlier that week. Jensen was still riding the high from it, and he simply wanted Jared to be there with him. Jared was supposed to be here, standing behind him, rocking their bodies in time with the music. He should have been nudging Jensen to go sing with Chris and Steve. He should have been egging Mike on when he gave Jensen shit over being on a daytime talk show. He should have been nuzzling Jensen’s ear and speaking sotto voce about how much he enjoyed their trip to Chicago and the time they’d spent on their hotel balcony, getting a thrill over making Jensen blush bright red in front of their friends.

But Jensen hadn’t seen any sign of Jared in at least half an hour, and his cell phone was going straight to voice mail whenever Jensen tried calling him.

When Chris and Steve finished their song, everyone in the vicinity whooped, and someone let out a loud whistle.

“Jenny!” Chris called when he caught sight of Jensen by the sliding glass door. “Come sing with us!”

Jensen grinned, ignoring the encouraging calls from Sandy and Mike. “Maybe later. I’m looking for Jared. You seen him?”

Chris shook his head, a strand of long brown hair falling into his face. “Not for fifteen minutes or so. He was out here earlier. Think he went inside looking for you.”

“Ha. That figures.” He tipped his beer toward Chris in a salute. “Thanks, man.”

“I expect you to join us for at least one song before the evening’s over, Jensen!” Chris shouted as he strummed out the opening riff of “House Rules.”

“Deal. Later, though!”

Chris gave him a look that promised he’d come drag Jensen’s ass out for a song if he didn’t show up fairly soon. Jensen just shrugged in acknowledgement and turned to go back in the house.

When he walked back into the kitchen, the difference between how bright it was outside and the dimmer inside meant that he nearly collided with Samantha Smith, the new British and Feminist Literature professor, who was carrying an armful of mostly-empty bottles of beer.

“Whoa!” she gasped, struggling to prevent bottles from crashing to the floor.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Sam.” Jensen helped steady her and caught a stray bottle that squeezed out from between her arms. “You don’t have to clean up, you know.”

Samantha brushed that aside with a soft laugh. “I know, Jensen. I don’t mind helping out a little. I would actually prefer to pick up the empty bottles than leave them out. With three teenage boys in the house, you learn very quickly that if a mess is left out, someone inevitably finds a way to hurt themselves on it. I don’t even notice I’m doing it anymore.”

“Well, let me help at least. It’s my house, after all.” He guided her over to the sink, where they dumped out any remaining liquid and tossed the bottles into the recycling bin.

“Your kids are lucky; my mom made us clean up after ourselves. Or after each other—one time when Mac talked back in church, Mom made her clean _my_ room for a week.”

Samantha’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s _brilliant_! Braden would never break curfew again if he had to clean up after his brothers. I’ll have to try that.”

Jensen leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “I totally used to pinch Mackenzie in church so she’d get in trouble, and then I wouldn’t have to clean my own room for a while.”

Samantha giggled and swatted his arm. “Oh, you devious little shit! I’m sure your mom knew… mothers _always_ know…”

“Yeah, it backfired on me once, and after spending a week cleaning up after Mac, I didn’t do it again.” Jensen smiled at the memory.

Samantha’s face turned thoughtful. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, ever since I saw your interview.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I didn’t realize that you’ve been completely estranged from your parents for ten years. And you can tell me to butt out if this is too personal, but I just wanted to say how sorry I am about what your parents did. I can’t imagine that I would ever do anything like that to one of my boys.”

Jensen swallowed. He’d had a number of conversations like this since the interview, even with some of his students, so he really wasn’t surprised. He actually didn’t mind talking about it with her all that much. “Thanks, Samantha. Your kids really are lucky to have you for a mom.”

Her face shifted into sadness. “Well, I wondered—What if your parents saw your interview? What would they do?”

He took a drink of his beer, thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say. “For one thing, I’d be surprised if my parents even saw the interview. Oprah is far too progressive for their tastes. My parents are deeply religious and stridently conservative. Oprah spends far too much time talking about things like feminism and independent women, gay rights, racism, and social justice, things they don’t care to think about. I can’t imagine they’ve ever seen even one of her shows. But even if they did see my interview, by some odd chance, I think it would only reinforce the rift between us.”

Samantha gave him a disbelieving look. “Really?”

“Yes. My parents have always been very concerned with appearances, with making sure their lives match up to what they think everyone _should_ be doing. Me airing my family’s dirty laundry on national television definitely falls in the category of ‘Things One SHOULD NOT Do,’ which also includes being queer or anything less than a perfect model of hetero masculinity. I don’t think they’d ever forgive me for going on Oprah, to be honest.”

Samantha put an arm around his shoulders. “I am so sorry, Jensen.”

This was starting to broach into uncomfortable territory. “Thank you, Samantha. But I’m used to it now. I’ve got great people in my life who love me, Jared’s parents have practically adopted me, so I’m good. I’m more than good, you know?”

Samantha’s face softened into a relieved smile. “Yeah, I can tell. I really admire your strength, I hope you know.”

Jensen felt his face heating up. He looked for a way to extract himself from Samantha’s well-intentioned but intrusive conversation. Over her shoulder, he saw his salvation.

“Hey, Jeff! Glad you could finally make it!”

Jeff Morgan, one of his closest friends and co-worker in the English department at UCLA, strolled into the kitchen, shit-eating grin on his salt-and-pepper stubbled face. “Hiya, Jensen,” he said, coming over to thump Jensen’s shoulder. His voice dropped half an octave. “Samantha, lovely to see you this fine evening.”

Jensen barely managed to hide his smirk as he saw the way Jeff and Samantha were looking at each other. Samantha had put some distance between herself and Jensen, and she fished another beer out of the ice cooler on the counter. Her pretty blue eyes had darkened, blush creeping over her cheeks.

Jeff was openly bisexual, and over the years that Jensen had known him, he’d watched Jeff date men more often than women. Yet there was an undeniable, visceral spark of attraction between him and Samantha, something he’d seen blossoming since she joined the English department that summer, and Jensen suddenly felt like they’d forgotten he was there.

“Would you care for a beer?” Samantha asked, handing Jeff the bottle she’d dug out of the cooler.

“Yes, thank you,” Jeff replied, brushing his fingers over hers.

Jensen’s cell phone rang then, and he eagerly grabbed at it, hoping it was Jared. He frowned a little when he saw it wasn’t his husband, but he took the opportunity to leave Jeff and Samantha alone together regardless.

“Good luck!” he whispered to Jeff as he walked away. He’d need it. Samantha was just starting to open up to dating again after the death of her husband a few years ago, and she would likely need a gentle touch.

Jeff just winked at him.

“Thank you, Danni,” he said when he answered the phone. “You have impeccable timing.”

Danneel cackled. “Did I get you out of an awkward conversation, Jensen?”

“You have _no_ idea.” He walked up the stairs toward his bedroom to get away from the noise of the party. And he still was hoping to find Jared.

“You’re welcome! How goes the ‘I’m a daytime talk show TV star’ party?”

Jensen snorted. His friends were never going to stop giving him shit for this; he just knew it. “It’s great, actually. Chris and Steve are playing on the back porch. You’re missing out.”

“Tell them to play ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’ for me, will ya?” Her voice dripped with nostalgia.

Jensen smiled at the memories that brought up. “I will. I’ll even sing it with them.”

“That’s my boy!”

“So what’s up?” Their bedroom was empty, as was the en-suite bathroom. Jensen stood in front of the walk-in closet, listening to Danni and wondering again where the hell his husband was.

“Well, I had to call you during your party, of course. No celebration would be complete without congratulations from me.”

“Hah! True.”

“And even though I was there during the interview, I still can’t believe it went so well. I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Aw, Danni…”

She barreled right over his uncomfortable stammering. “Also. I wanted to tell you that things over here at Kripke & Gamble have been very exciting in the last few days. Since your interview aired, to be specific.”

“Oh yeah?” Jensen looked into his office across the hall from their bedroom—still no Jared.

“Yeah. Lots of press inquiries about Jesse Eastland, _Growing the Husband Tree_ , and when you’re going to come out with another book.”

“Ah, I see. You’re calling to prod me, aren’t you?”

“Poke, poke. If you were here I’d be jabbing you in the ribs.”

“Ooh. Thank god for 3,000 miles between us, then.”

“Sera wants to set up a telecon with you to start talking ideas for a follow-up. It’s been five years since Husband Tree. And I _know_ you’re super busy being a brilliant college professor, but Sera thinks—”

Jensen cut her off. “I’ve got several different plots outlined, Danni. I’d love to talk them through with you and Sera.”

Danneel made a happy squeak. “Great! I’ll talk to her on Monday and set up a call for next week.”

Jensen headed back down the stairs. Jared was definitely not anywhere on the second floor. “Awesome. Does that conclude the business side of your call?”

She laughed. “Yup, that about covers it. And bonus! Now I can count this Thai food as a working dinner, thank you very much. So how are things over in sunny LA? How’s your gorgeous sasquatch hubby?”

“Things are good! Crazy busy, but good. Jared’s good, except I can’t seem to find him at the moment.”

Danneel sniggered. “That should not be possible, given that he’s six-foot-eleventeen. And, wait, aren’t you guys usually super in tune with each other all the time since you’re dream soul mates?”

“Usually, yeah. It’s just kind of chaotic right now.”

“Are you guys okay?” Her voice moved into concern. “You sound a bit frazzled, to be honest.”

Jensen frowned. “It’s been a crazy couple of months, with my class load this quarter and Oprah and Jared trying to get this art show… But he and I are fine. Just busy and stressed.”

“Hmm.” She sounded like she wasn’t quite buying it. “You two totally need a vacation, you know? Just the two of you in a cabin, or on a beach, or in a tent somewhere, no work and nothing but each other and a jumbo bottle of lube.”

“Heh, definitely not disagreeing with you on that. We’ll have some good time off together over Christmas break. And we’re doing alright in the meantime.”

“And yet you can’t find him, the man who’s taller than a tree.”

Jensen chuckled, moving around a gaggle of his grad students. “There’s just way too many people here right now. But I’ll find him eventually. I know where he sleeps, after all. What about you and Riley? How’re things in Beantown?”

Danneel accepted the change of topic with a soft hum. “Fabulous, as always. You and Jayman should really consider coming out here. You could be legit married here, you know. Legally, not just ‘domestic-partnershipped.’”

“Yeah, I know. Believe me, we’ve talked about it. Maybe in a few years. We’re really settled here.”

“We could probably find you a position at BU or Northeastern, or even Cambridge or Harvard, you know. Kripke & Gamble have the connections to swing that. Sera would love to have you closer.” The “I would love to have you closer” was unsaid, but Jensen heard it anyway.

“You mean she wants me where she can poke her head in whenever she wants to look over my shoulder and see my progress. Oh! There he is!”

Finally, Jensen caught sight of Jared, standing in the kitchen with Tom. Jensen was in the far side of the dining room, and he tried to catch Jared’s eye.

But Jared wasn’t looking at him. Tom was talking—Jensen couldn’t hear him over the music and people having conversations around him—and gesticulating with his hands, beer bottle in his left, like he was framing out photographs.

Jared stepped back when Tom’s hands approached his arm, frowning and going stiff.

A note of concern sounded in Jensen’s mind. “I’m going to go talk to Jared,” he said. “I’ve been looking for him for an hour.”

“Alright, give him a big hug and smooch from me. And you two get some quality alone time, I mean it. I’ll call you next week to schedule a meeting with Sera.”

“Will do, sounds great. Later, Danni.”

“Bye, Jensen.” Jensen ended the call and pocketed his phone as he walked around the dining table.

In the kitchen, Jared’s face had fallen into something Jensen didn’t know how to describe; it was such an alien expression for his husband to be wearing. Pensive, angry, sad, and distant all at once.

When Tom stepped toward Jared, his face morphing into worry, Jared shuffled sideways, out of his reach. Jensen frowned as he entered the kitchen, his concern edging closer to alarm.

Jensen came up on Jared’s other side, sliding his hand around Jared’s waist. “You okay, Jay?”

Jared jerked violently, jumping backwards and ramming his hip into the edge of the counter. “Oh Jesus, Jensen!” he gasped, knuckles white as he clutched at the countertop.

Jensen stood there gaping, hands stretching out to Jared, but not quite touching. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to sneak up on Jared… maybe never. They were usually so… _aware_ of each other.

Jared’s face flushed red. He was shaking slightly. “Holy shit, you startled me!” He gave an overly light laugh.

“Sorry,” Jensen said, still baffled. “Didn’t mean to. You alright?”

Jared rubbed at his hip. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “I’ll probably have a bruise, but I’ll be fine.”

Jensen reached out to rub Jared’s hip, eyes meeting his husband’s to silently ask permission—which was also unusual. For some reason that Jensen couldn’t quite place, he felt like Jared had set some new boundaries, and Jensen wanted to make sure he didn’t cross a line.

Jared gave him a faint nod and a reassuring smile. Jensen palmed over Jared’s hip bone, tucking his hand into his jean pocket. “You sure you’re okay?”

Jared’s eyes darted over to Tom, who Jensen could see was looking at them with a curious expression. Jared leaned into Jensen’s embrace, his manner now easy and natural. “Yeah, I’m good. Just didn’t hear you come over.”

Jensen sighed in relief, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had made Jared so tense in the first place. But with all their friends in the house, now wasn’t a good time to get into it. “Your phone is off, by the way. I’ve been trying to find you for a while.”

Jared’s eyes widened and he dug his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, I’m sorry. I turned it off earlier when I was working, and I must have forgot to turn it back on. Sorry.” He gave a lopsided grin.

Jensen was trying to figure that out—Jared didn’t usually turn the phone off entirely; he’d just let it ring if he was painting—when Christian and Steve plowed into the kitchen, insisting Jensen come out and sing with them. “You promised, Jenny boy! It’s time you appeased your fans!” Chris goaded, pulling Jensen by the arm out onto the back porch.

Jared flashed his dimples at him and followed them out the door. He cheered louder than anyone else as Chris shoved a guitar into Jensen’s hands.

As they launched into the opening bars of the song, Jensen glanced back over at his husband. Jared now appeared to be comfortable, no sign of the tension he’d shown in the kitchen. Jared had grabbed a beer and was standing with Sandy, his posture relaxed as they chatted and swayed to the music.

  


Monday, October 23, 2006

“Jared?” Jensen called as he walked in the front door and set his bag stuffed to overflowing with papers he had to grade down on the sofa. Jared’s Bronco was parked in the driveway, so he knew his husband was home. Jensen mentally checked their calendar—as far as he was aware, Jared should be at the LGBT Center right now.

Music spilled down the hallway, which meant Jared was painting. Jensen hoped he was working on his series for submission―Jared was vying to be selected for the annual “Hot Talent” art show held at _Obsidian_ , one of the most popular galleries in Hollywood. Every artist featured at _Obsidian_ became an overnight success. Jensen was of the opinion that Jared should easily win the show, and that wasn’t just because he was married to the man. Jared was an amazing artist and was definitely talented enough to show in one of Los Angeles’s premiere art galleries.

As Jensen walked toward Jared’s studio, he noticed that the music wasn’t Jared’s usual mix of pop, rock, and alternative. It wasn’t very often that Jared listened to heavy metal, and the faint note of curiosity in Jensen’s mind grew into concern. Jensen stepped into the studio and then leaned on the door frame.

Jared was slapping large swaths of color on a tall frame of canvas, his motions rough and jerky. Black smeared with red and brown in no apparent pattern, smudging together into a muddy mess. Jared often did abstract work, but usually he took more care with his colors, brushes and strokes. And he usually had a pattern or image he was trying to create. This… this was Jared _hitting_ a canvas with paint. Jensen wondered if he would put his brush right through it, he was jabbing so hard.

A spike of alarm shot through his veins. “Jared?”

Jared didn’t seem to hear him.

Jensen stepped into the room, circling around to get into his husband’s peripheral vision. “Jared, what’s wrong?”

Jared flinched slightly, then flicked wide hazel eyes over to Jensen, the muscle in his jaw visibly tensing. His entire body remained strung tight for a few white-knuckle seconds, and then he slumped, dropping the brush with a splat onto his palette in disgust. His hair flopped down into his eyes, and he wiped his hands on a paint-stained towel.

Jensen was lost. He had _no_ idea what was going on with Jared, and that was a strange feeling by itself. Their shared dreams meant that they usually knew each other inside out, but… Jensen realized with a start that they hadn’t dreamed together in a while, and his mind raced as he tried to recall how long it had been. Before they went to Chicago… _well_ before. _Holy shit_. It had to be somewhere around two months now. No wonder he’d been feeling oddly detached from Jared. This… wasn’t normal for them.

He walked up to Jared and reached out to palm the back of his neck. Jared seemed to pull away at first, but then he moved forward and accepted the touch. Up close, Jensen could see that his husband had streaks of color on his face. Using his other hand, he brushed Jared’s hair out of his eyes. “Hey. What’s the matter?”

Jared bit his lip, his white teeth scraping over a spatter of brown paint. Jensen rubbed at the smear on his husband’s lip. It peeled away easily.

One corner of Jared’s mouth quirked a little. “It’s nothing.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, yeah. This is me you’re talking to, you know. What’s going on?”

Jared exhaled sharply, his eyes shifting away from Jensen’s. “It’s just… these clients at work, they’re homophobic assholes, and I have to put up with them.”

Jensen frowned, wondering if that was the entire story. Tracing his fingers along Jared’s jaw, Jensen pulled Jared’s face back to meet his gaze. “Jared.”

Jared gazed at him for handful of heartbeats, his shoulders hunched toward Jensen, and then his eyes darted away again. “These guys in my lifting class, they’re always making these jokes about fags being perverts and how glad they are that they don’t have to deal with any homos at this gym. They’re _dicks_ , Jensen, they ogle the women and make these disgusting comments to the female trainers, and when I told them to knock it off, they complained to my boss that I was harassing them. So I talked with Lauren about it, and she said to ignore it because they’re customers. She doesn’t think they bother the ‘girls,’ so _obviously_ I’m just being too sensitive. I should be used to hearing shit like that, she said, and I should keep my ‘preferences’ to myself. She let _me_ off with a warning.”

Jensen’s eye twitched, anger surging inside him. The gym Jared worked at―had worked at happily for years now―was under new management, and Lauren Cohan, the new owner, was proving to be a real cutthroat who put making a profit over everything else, including her employees’ well-being. Ever since she took over, Jared had grown progressively more frustrated and miserable, and Jensen had started nudging Jared to find another job. As far as Jensen was concerned, Lauren was an _unmitigated_ asshole, and she wasn’t worth the stress she was causing Jared.

“And the thing is that I _know_ the women trainers don’t like it, either,” Jared continued. “Pamela was upset about some of the shit they said to her, and Cynthia said one of them tried to grope her ass when she walked past them on the floor. And the really stupid part of it is that if nothing changes, we’re going to start losing our female trainers and customers. But Lauren doesn’t think that’s going to be a problem because we have a women-only area.”

“Wow, not only is she a bitch, she’s a shortsighted bitch. She’s going to put that place out of business—you can’t just disregard the needs of half of your clientele.”

Jared’s face twisted into a jaded scowl. “God, that’s so fucking true. I have to go back to work tomorrow and spot for these jerks and paste on a grin while they make lewd jokes and not tell them that I’m the fag who could kick their asses if I wanted to. Part of me really wants to… I tried to get their membership revoked, but Lauren laughed when I suggested it. She said, and I quote, ‘I get sexually harassed all the time, and you don’t see me crying over it. So grow some balls and toughen up.’”

Jensen tugged Jared forward, pressing his lips to his husband’s collar bone. “You do have options, you know. You and the other trainers. You don’t have to put up with bullshit like that. You don’t have to stick around while the business implodes.”

To Jensen’s surprise, Jared spun away from him and picked up his paintbrush. “What? Just quit? But then I’d be out of a job, and with the way my art is _not_ selling… No, I can’t quit.”

_Goddammit._ “Jared, I don’t care if you’re not working for a while. We can manage on my salary.” They might have to cut down on eating out, but they could totally get by on Jensen’s income for months. Plus, with his book sales up as a result of the interview, they were going to be more than fine financially. “I’d rather have you painting and happy than working and miserable. And that way, you’d have more time to work on your submissions for the _Obsidian_ show.”

Jared’s shoulders inched up toward his ears. “This is shit,” he said, scowling at the murky mess on his canvas. “I’m gonna have to start from scratch.”

“Jared.” Jensen huffed. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Jared grabbed a painting knife off his work table and began scraping the excess paint off the canvas, globs of brown and red and blackish-green rolling beneath the knife until Jared scooped them up and deposited them onto an empty palette tray. “I know, and I appreciate it. But it would bother _me_. I need to work. I need to be doing something to contribute. You’re already paying more than your fair share of all the bills.”

“I don’t care about that. This is about _us_ , about both of us, and us supporting each other. Sometimes you’ll have more income, and sometimes I will. It’s okay, and it doesn’t mean you’re not contributing. I’d rather support you for a bit while you get into a better position. Some point down the road, you’ll be the one supporting me.”

Jared dropped the painting of angry mud down on the floor, residual paint splattering across the linoleum in a muddy spray. He kicked it to lean against the wall and hefted a blank canvas onto the easel. Placing his hands on his hips, he tipped his head forward and sighed. “Yeah, I know. I know it shouldn’t bug me as much as it does, but it _does_. It doesn’t have anything to do with you―it’s me. I just have to feel like I’m pulling my fair share of the weight.” He bent over and dug into the cupboard next to the sink they’d installed in the room, coming up with a bottle of Gesso.

Jensen decided on a new tactic as Jared swiped Gesso on the fresh canvas, a smear of white primer across the surface. He stepped up behind Jared and wrapped his arms around his chest. “Okay, I understand. But there are still more options than suffering in silence. You can look for a new job and not quit until you have one lined up. Or you and the other trainers can band together and file a complaint with the labor commissioner―if Lauren won’t do anything about sexual harassment, that’s discriminatory, and it’s illegal. Or hell, you can unionize and strike or something.”

Jared huffed out a sardonic laugh.

“There have to be other gyms that would be more than happy to take on someone with your experience. What about Crunch? They have a large gay clientele, so you wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of shit there. Or you can see about finding a teaching job. I know you’d rather do that than stay at the gym.”

Jared let his weight settle against Jensen’s chest. “Yeah, okay. You’re probably right. I’ll think about it.”

They stood there for a long minute, breathing together, Jensen’s hand over Jared’s heart. He could feel the tension in Jared’s body slowly bleed away. The spike of adrenaline that Jensen had been riding since he came into the room faded as Jared relaxed. Jensen could sense the moment their breathing synchronized, and he pressed his temple against Jared’s ear.

“Better?”

Jared put his hand on top of Jensen’s, threading their fingers together. “Yeah. Maybe I can paint something that isn’t mud now.”

Jensen brushed his nose along the muscle of Jared’s neck, his hand moving down to his husband’s nipple. Jared smelled like paint and sweat and the spice of his shampoo, and Jensen breathed him in. He could feel Jared smile, his cheek drawing back against Jensen’s temple, and sparks of desire pooled low in his groin.

Jared hummed, a low rumble in his chest. “Jensen, you’re being distracting.”

Jensen bit at Jared’s ear. “You want me to stop?”

Jared turned around in his arms, eyes dark, his lower lip red and wet. “Never want you to stop being distracting.” His palms mapped over Jensen’s chest and up the sides of his neck.

Jensen brushed his nose along Jared’s jawline and felt his lips quirk up at the shiver that rolled through Jared. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good,” Jared whispered, then caught Jensen’s mouth in a kiss, tongue darting out to meet his.

Jensen hummed into Jared’s mouth as he dipped his hands down to his belt buckle. His fingers were itching to wrap around Jared, feel his hardness, make him moan. He briefly entertained the idea of fucking Jared here, bending him over the counter, knocking his paint jars to the floor… but that would ruin the mood. Jared’s paints were _precious_.

Jared derailed his train of thought when he did that flick of his tongue against Jensen’s palate that always turned Jensen to putty. _Christ_ , he loved kissing his husband. He gave back as good as he got, not letting Jared entirely control the kiss, and he lost his sense of time into Jared’s mouth.

They kissed for long minutes, tongues caressing, and then Jensen trailed his mouth over the sharp line of Jared’s jaw, down his throat. He finished undoing Jared’s jeans and delved his fingers beneath the fabric, seeking, pushing his clothes down and away so he could have better access. Jared tipped his head back, eyes unfocused as he rutted into Jensen’s body. His attention seemed inward, or elsewhere, and Jensen wanted him here, now, with him.

“Hey,” Jensen whispered, hand closing around Jared’s length, twisting, pumping him firmly.

Jared groaned and closed his eyes.

“Jared.”

After a few seconds of no response, Jensen wrapped his other hand around the base of Jared’s skull and tipped his head forward. “Jared.”

Jared’s eyes opened, took a second to focus on him, and then his tongue swiped over his bitten-red lips. “Yeah. Feels good.”

Pleased, Jensen gripped Jared more firmly, rocking himself against Jared’s hip and enjoying the thrill of sensation that shot through him. “So do you.”

Jared batted Jensen’s hands away from his dick and shuffled him toward the counter. “Don’t wanna come just yet,” Jared mumbled against his neck, teeth grazing behind Jensen’s ear.

Jensen shivered down to his toes when his ass hit the edge of the counter, sharp edge digging in as Jared pressed against his front, their groins notching together. Jensen pulled Jared’s mouth back to his and sucked on his lower lip.

“So hot, Jensen.” Jared’s voice was a low rumble that Jensen could feel in his chest, and it sent sparks of desire tripping beneath his skin, trickling over his muscle.

Jared’s fingers fumbled against Jensen’s fly, and then Jared was fishing his cock out of his trousers, thumb grazing over the head, journey smoothed by the slick of Jensen’s precome.

“Oh Jesus!” Jensen felt his whole body twist and rise into Jared’s hand, desperate to be closer, to merge with his husband. He wanted…

Jensen’s mind was wiped clean like a white board when Jared dropped to his knees and took Jensen’s cock into his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before pressing down, down, hand palming his balls softly. Holy shit, he wasn’t expecting _that_ , and _goddamn_ Jared was trying to suck him inside out through his dick.

“Unnnffnngghh, oh my god, Jared. Your fucking mouth…” Jensen couldn’t help but plunge one hand into Jared’s hair, twining his fingers in the soft strands and pulling gently. The other hand shoved his trousers down over his hips, not caring that the fabric fell to bunch around his knees.

Jared moaned—he always liked having his hair pulled a little—sending vibrations winging up Jensen’s spine, and Jensen was glad for the ledge of the counter when his knees wobbled a bit. Jared’s eyes were closed, dark lashes against his cheeks, and he seemed lost inside himself once more, intent and distant. Jensen pulled on Jared’s hair again, trying to get his attention, and Jared’s eyelashes fluttered open to reveal glazed, faraway eyes, ring of hazel around wide, dark pupils. Jared met his gaze for a split second, and one dimple peeked out before he redoubled his effort, swirling his tongue around Jensen and applying more pressure to the tip.

Fucking _hell_. Jensen bit the meat of his palm, groaning, trying desperately to keep this from being over in record time.

Jared slipped a finger into his mouth alongside Jensen’s cock, then inched it behind his balls, swooping wetness around his entrance. Heat zinged from his ass straight up the center of his cock, and Jensen had to brace himself on the counter to keep himself upright. “Fuck, yeah. Give it to me.”

The finger pressed inward, tapping and searching inside of him. Jensen tried to widen his stance as much as he could with his trousers around his knees, and— _Bingo!_ that was it.

“Oh fuck, Jay, you gotta stop or this is gonna be over too soon.” His orgasm was threatening, he was edging around it, and he wanted to hold off until he and Jared could come together, until he could wring Jared’s orgasm out of him by his own hands.

Jared let go of his cock long enough to say, “Do it, Jensen. I’m right there with you.”

Jensen blinked and looked down, saw that Jared was jacking himself, his long cock purple and glistening in his paint-stained fist, and a throb of lust rocketed through Jensen at the sight even as he felt a pang of disappointment. “But I wanna…” _worship your cock, too_. He really hadn’t had as much time as he preferred to touch his husband.

Jared’s face was a picture of concentration, and his eyes fell closed. “Mmm, yeah, but… I’m too close. Next time…” He stroked across Jensen’s prostate again, then took his cock back into his mouth, laving at the head and focusing on the sensitive ridge, and Jensen’s resolve to hold off was overwhelmed by his body’s need for completion now.

Jensen could feel the way Jared’s entire body tightened as he raced toward orgasm, feel each of Jared’s moans, and the reverberation in his bones pushed him right up to the precipice.

Jared quaked at his feet, groaning around Jensen’s cock, and Jensen forced his eyes to stay open as he crested immediately afterward, body thrumming and throbbing as he watched Jared fall apart. He longed to feel that quivering around him, to have Jared shatter beneath him while he pulsed into him, and just imagining them making love up in their bed, visualizing the look on Jared’s face, the way his hands would scrabble at the sheets and claw at his skin in that peak sent an explosive aftershock through Jensen, making his knees buckle.

It was a few minutes later that Jensen seemed to gradually regain control of his body. He and Jared were collapsed together on the linoleum, wrapped around each other. “Mmm, Jared.” His voice was hoarse.

Jared lifted his head up to prop his chin on Jensen’s sternum, his eyes unfocused and a blissful look on his face. “Yeah.”

Jensen chortled softly and slowly managed to get them both standing on their feet again. He grabbed a painting rag off the counter and wiped them both up while Jared sagged against him, heavy and warm.

He found Jared’s mouth again, lapped his way inside, and they continued coming down together as they kissed gently, soft strokes of tongues and caressing hands. Jared hummed against his lips, and Jensen echoed the sentiment, his hands coming up to rest against Jared’s shoulder blades.

When the kiss broke, Jared’s dimples flashed as he pressed his lips into a small smile, and he propped his forehead against Jensen’s. “Thank you, Jensen, you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Jensen kissed him again. “You did all the work; I should be thanking you.”

Jared winked at him. “It’s not like I didn’t get something out of it, too.”

Jensen felt a wash of pride at being able to improve Jared’s mood.

Jared took a deep breath, seemed to collect himself, and stepped away, turning back toward his blank canvas. “Now stop being distracting, you. I need to actually make some progress on this series today.”

“Alright.”

Jensen rested against the counter for a while regardless, just watching his husband finish applying Gesso to the canvas, sort through his paints and prepare his palette. His movements were much more relaxed now, and Jensen was privately quite pleased with himself.

After a few minutes, Jensen asked, “Hey, how is your _Obsidian_ submission coming, by the way? Is there any news yet? Did Parker like your drafts?”

Jared’s stance immediately tightened again, all traces of the sated lassitude Jensen had wrought in him vanishing in an instant, and Jensen felt the change in his husband like a blow.

“Yes, Dunstan liked my drafts,” Jared said, and the calm in his voice seemed forced. “He said I’m his ‘ _favorite_ ‘ so far, but he can’t make up his mind yet. He won’t decide for another week or two.”

Jensen’s mind raced to decipher Jared’s body language. Nothing about what he’d just said should make him that tense. Though, on second thought, the way Jared said “favorite” with a bit of a sneer was… unusual. But he couldn’t quite pin down what bothered him about it.

“Jared, you know it isn’t the end of the world if you don’t get this show. There are lots of other paid projects you can land, or you can just keep working on your own art, too. I know you’ll be able to sell some of it eventually.”

Jared sighed and put down a tub of blue paint rather forcefully. “Yeah, I know. I just…”

Jensen was at Jared’s side in a quick step. “I get why you feel like you _have to_. But please don’t think that I’m pressuring you in any way, okay?”

Glancing at him through messy bangs, Jared nodded, his eyes sad. “I know, Jen. It’s not anything like that at all.”

“Then what is it? What has you so tense?”

Jared looked down at his palette, blending blue and yellow together. “I’m just stressed, is all. I have all these images in my head that I need to get down on canvas, and I need to get another painting done for this series. But I’ll try to stop worrying so much.”

Jensen pressed a kiss to Jared’s shoulder. “Alright, I’ll let you work. You gonna be okay?”

Jared turned to kiss Jensen softly on the lips. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll just be in the office, grading a ream of papers.” Jensen stepped back, giving Jared his space.

“Will do,” Jared replied, his focus back on the canvas.

When Jensen reached the studio door, he turned back around to look at his husband one last time, he could see that Jared’s shoulders were still knotted up. Jared wasn’t lying to him, but somehow, he felt like he still didn’t have the entire story. However, Jensen trusted his husband, and he just hoped Jared would tell him about whatever was bothering him when he was ready.

  


Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Jensen tried not to laugh aloud as he read the story in his hands. He also had to restrain himself from pulling out his hair. “Oh my god,” he grumbled. “Please save me from bad writing.”

“That bad, huh?”

Jensen looked up to see Jeff Morgan standing in his doorway, an amused smirk on his face.

“It’s awful, Jeff,” Jensen complained. “She obviously hasn’t heard about Mary Sue characters, because this…” He dropped the paper onto the desktop in disgust.

“Ha! Let me guess. She’s a violet-eyed, super gorgeous, super powerful, preternaturally attractive, perfect girl and obvious author self-insertion who is a love interest of the hero and every other guy in the story, not to mention half the women.”

Jensen clenched his eyes shut as he guffawed. Jeff was right on most counts. “Pretty much. I’ll have to devote a class to the issue of avoiding Mary Sue and Gary Stu at all costs.”

“Heh. I love teaching Intro to Creative Writing for the sheer entertainment value alone.” Jeff appeared to be fondly remembering all the bad stories he’d graded.

“Yeah, but you get a perverse pleasure from mocking bad fiction. I just find it horrifying. I can barely force myself to get through them to grade them.”

Jeff smirked at him. “A few more quarters of teaching it will toughen your hide, grasshopper.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Was there a reason you stopped by, or were you just here to mock my pain?”

“To mock you, of course.”

“Why don’t you go mock Samantha?” He drew her name out suggestively.

“And shoot myself in the foot before I’ve even got it through the door? Not a chance.”

“You’re mixing your metaphors, Jeff. Tsk, tsk.” Jensen mentally drew a red line through the sentence, then realized he’d been grading papers far too long if he was starting to correct people’s speech in his mind. 

Jeff looked amused but otherwise ignored his gibe. “I was also coming to tell you I saw a report that said that since the Oprah interview aired, right wing religious organizations have been calling for your book to be banned from schools and public libraries.”

“I’m not all that surprised, to be honest. Any time a gay story makes any headway into mainstream consciousness, the fundies go berserk. They even flip out over a children’s book about penguins.”

Jeff chuckled. “But you’re in good company, at least. Salinger, Steinbeck, Maya Angelou, Orwell, and hell, even J.K. Rowling have all been banned. Just means your writing is making people think. And hey, banned books _sell_ , Jensen. Your sales on Amazon have skyrocketed in the last week.”

Jensen perked up. “Really?” He hadn’t taken the time to examine his page on Amazon since the interview aired, too busy with classes and midterm papers.

“Yeah. I expect you’ll be getting a nice fat check from Kripke & Gamble next month.”

“I guess there’s a grain of truth to the saying ‘there’s no such thing as bad press,’” Jensen mused.

“You could have that homophobic church group protesting with their ‘God Hates Fags’ signs outside on the quad,” Jeff suggested helpfully. “That would be bad press.”

“Ha, I’m not exactly a military funeral.” The last thing he needed to deal with was _that_ awful group.

“They protest other things, too, you know. Schools are a popular choice, especially if they enact gay-supporting policies.”

Jensen groaned and rapped his knuckles on the wooden desktop. “Don’t jinx me, Jeff.”

Jeff snorted. “Alright. I’ll let you get back to your papers.”

“Hey, I have an idea! You enjoy reading intro student stories so much, why don’t you grade these?” He held out the offending Mary Sue story, enticing him to take it.

Jeff backed up. “Ha, think you’re so clever? Not a chance. I’ve got my own classes to grade papers for.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“Alright, I’ll acknowledge your less-than-subtle hint and get out of your hair. Copy the worst for me, will ya?”

Jensen leaned back in his seat, contemplative. “Only in exchange for coffee. If I’m gonna feed your habit, you gotta feed mine.”

Jeff’s dimple twitched and he nodded. “Should just tap a vein; that would be more efficient.”

“True. But it wouldn’t taste as good.”

Jeff’s expression shifted toward concern. “You’ve been drinking a lot of coffee lately, more than usual. You doing alright?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just busy; things have been crazy lately.”

Jeff inclined his head. “Alright. Things should slow down after midterms, and then you can have more time to spend with your man.”

Jensen was a bit astonished, actually. That was twice now that a friend suggested that he seemed stressed and needed to spend more time with Jared. Really, he was okay. Sure, he had a heavy class load and a lot of work to do, and he really could use a long weekend with Jared, but other than that, he was fine. He and Jared were fine.

Jensen decided not to mention his thoughts. “That sounds great, but it won’t mean I need less coffee, you know. Jared’s got a lot of energy to keep up with.” He waggled an eyebrow.

Jeff affected an elderly voice. “Ah, you young whippersnappers in love, you make me exhausted just thinking about it.”

Jensen pointed at him, scowling. “No fantasizing about us, you dirty old man!”

“I make no such promises!” Jeff laughed as he walked away.

Chuckling, Jensen resumed grading the maladroit, clichéd story. He needed to get these papers done.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that the phone rang and startled him out of his thoughts. Without looking at the number on the caller ID, he picked up the phone. “Professor Ackles.”

“Jensen?”

The voice sounded familiar, but Jensen couldn’t immediately place it. “Yes…”

The woman’s breath hitched audibly. “I’ve been thinking of calling you for a while now, but Josh didn’t answer the phone when I needed to get your number.”

The hairs on the back of Jensen’s neck stood up, an icy shower of adrenaline. In a million years he never expected to hear his _mother’s_ voice, not here, not now. He sat back in his chair, reeling as his mother continued talking.

“Then I realized that your office number was probably published on the university website, so I looked you up there, and they show your number and your office hours and your picture―you look so grown up, honey…” She let out a sob.

A thread of clarity hit Jensen through the fog, connecting him with his anger and astonishment at her sheer _nerve_. “You don’t get to call me ‘honey’ anymore, _Donna_. You lost that right when you evicted me from your life.”

“I know, Jensen,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, you have no idea, but your father wanted me to call you, and…” She sobbed again.

Jensen’s mind whirled. His mother was _crying_? She never appeared less than perfectly put together, and he’d _never_ heard her cry like this before. Regardless, Jensen was unimpressed. She had no right to be crying in his ear like this. “You’re _sorry_. That’s not going to cut it here, not after all the horrible things you said to me back then. ‘ _Sorry_ ’ doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“What do you want from me, Jensen?” Her voice was edged with desperation.

“Hey, you’re the one calling me. I don’t want anything from you anymore.”

She let out a watery sigh. “Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. I know that we didn’t handle things very well back then, but I did what I thought was best at the time…”

Jensen saw red. “What was best. What was _best_ for me was to have my parents _support me_ and _love me_ no matter what. What was _best_ for me was for my parents to put _me_ first and not care more about what the neighbors think. Not tell me I was perverted, sick, wrong, and going to hell. Not kick me out of the house!”

“I know, I should have… I’m not doing this right.” Her breath hitched.

Jensen barely restrained himself from muttering, “Understatement of the century.” His eyes pricked with moisture, and he was _done_ with this conversation, because he was about to sink to her level and say something he’d regret. She had no goddamned _right_ to call him up and cry on his shoulder like he’d hurt her when _she_ was the one in the wrong.

“Look, I’m not doing this with you. I have to go.”

She broke out into a fresh round of sobs. “Jensen…”

“I have to go. I have a class to go to,” he lied.

“Jensen, wait…” Donna pleaded.

“Goodbye, Mom.” He hung up the phone.

The room echoed with silence, and Jensen sat back in his chair.

That had not just happened. His mother had _not_ just called him up and ripped open old wounds, not when he was feeling like maybe the scars had finally healed.

Jensen threw his pen down on the desk and dug his knuckles into his temples. “Fuck,” he breathed.

He had no idea how to react. He’d been feeling so good, so confident, and now, after one call from his mother, he felt like he’d missed a step on a staircase. Jensen stood up and paced over to his window. The LA smog was particularly thick today, muting his view of the hills. Instead, he looked down onto the campus, watching the students mill about on the grounds, and focused on controlling his heartbeat.

His office hours were scheduled for another hour, and then he had a class to teach. Jaw clenched, Jensen knew that there was no way he could focus on teaching today. He hated to cancel a class, but he needed to regroup.

He spun around and picked up his phone, dialing the department administrative assistant. He asked her to put up a cancellation notice, saying something urgent had come up, and then he called Jared.

“Jensen, hey!” Jared’s voice was warm, but he sounded preoccupied.

“Jared, can you get away from the Center this afternoon? I need to see you.”

“I’ve got a class starting in five minutes, Jen. But I can come by afterward.”

Jensen blinked, momentarily distracted. “I thought you were just working the desk today.”

“Noooo…” Jared drew the word out, clearly perplexed. “I teach painting every Tuesday afternoon, Jensen. Have for a while now.”

“Goddammit.” Why didn’t Jensen know that? He really should have known that.

Jared’s voice shifted toward concern. “What’s going on?”

“My mother just called me.”

Jared hissed in a shocked breath. “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“Not really. Can you meet me at home?”

Jared sighed. “Yeah… crap. Let me figure out what I’m gonna do about my class.”

“Can’t you just cancel it?”

“It’s not that simple. The kids are already here and setting up.”

“Well, don’t let me inconvenience you or your kids, then,” Jensen snapped, and then immediately felt remorseful.

“Hey. You don’t have to get short with me.” Jared’s voice was stiff.

Jensen wanted to kick himself. “Sorry, I’m just…”

Jared heaved out a heavy breath. “I get it, Jen, I really do. I know this is big, and I’ll be there for you. I just have to take care of some stuff first. Let me get the class started and get Mark to take over, and then I’ll head home. It will probably take me fifteen minutes or so to get out the door.”

“I’m sorry, Jared. Thank you.”

There was a short stretch of silence, during which Jensen held his breath and hoped Jared wasn’t too angry with him, and then Jared said, “No problem,” his voice a bit warmer.

Jensen felt himself relax a little. “See you at the house in a few.”

The call disconnected, and Jensen dropped his phone into his pocket. He took a deep breath, trying to focus, and stuffed the stack of papers he still had to grade into his messenger bag. He could not fathom why his mother would contact him now, after ten years of silence between them. The only thing Jensen was aware of that could have prompted her call was his interview on Oprah, but he still couldn’t imagine that would make her want to make contact with him.

Jensen locked his office door behind him, wrote a note on the board by his door, and headed toward his car. “If she called just to tell me I looked handsome on Oprah,” he muttered to himself as he walked down the hall, “I’m gonna be so pissed.”

  



	3. Two

  


The garage was empty when Jensen pulled into the driveway. Jensen parked in his spot, and could hear Harley and Sadie yapping excitedly at the door when he turned off the engine. He left his messenger bag in the back seat when he got out of the car, figuring he could come get it later, when his head was back in the space of grading papers.

Jensen closed the garage door and opened up the door into the kitchen. Harley barreled out at him, tail wagging fiercely, slobbering all over his hands in greeting. Jensen rubbed his ears; despite his emotional turmoil, he couldn’t help but grin at the affectionate hello. “Hey, Harley! Good boy, not jumping up on me!”

Pleased, Harley ran back into kitchen and straight to the sliding glass door, wagging his tail ferociously, looking over to Jensen and back to the door. Sadie nudged at Jensen’s hand, drawing his attention. She gave a soft wine as he knelt down to pet her.

“Hey, girl.” She always had been able to tell when he was upset. She licked his chin and Jensen dropped his forehead onto hers, scratching her ears. “I’m alright,” he told her. “Or I will be,” he added to himself.

Jensen gave Sadie one last head rub, and then he walked over to Harley. “Alright, you crazy mutt,” he muttered, opening the sliding glass door. Harley leaped out into the yard, barking. Sadie paused at the door, looking up at Jensen with big brown eyes.

“Go on, girl,” Jensen said, patting her rump.

Apparently her bladder made the decision for her, because she trotted out the door. Jensen knew he’d be seeing her again soon.

He went to the sink to wash the slobber off his hands, then found himself standing there, staring unfocused out the window, mind racing and reeling at the same time.

He snapped out of his daze when he heard the garage door open again and the rumble of Jared’s Bronco as he pulled in next to Jensen’s car.

“Hey,” Jared greeted as he came into the house. “Kids outside?”

“Yeah.” Jensen dried his hands on a towel.

Jared came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Jensen’s waist, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “Hey, you alright?” Jared whispered into Jensen’s skin.

“I think so. I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was… Her call really threw me. I need to find out what the hell is going on.”

Jared squeezed him, and Jensen knew he was forgiven.

“Whatever it is, I’m right here with you,” Jared promised.

Jensen turned around in Jared’s arms, placed his hands on Jared’s hips. “I know, Jay. Thank you.” He kissed Jared softly, seeking comfort, and Jared pulled him more tightly to his body.

“So what did she want?”

“She never did say. The only thing I can think of is that it’s because of the interview. Which doesn’t make sense, not really.”

“What did she say?”

“Well, she was crying, said she’d wanted to call me for a while, said she was sorry, and then said she’d done what she thought was best.”

Jared snorted. “That’s rich.”

“Tell me about it. She is not the type to be that weepy. She’d rather put a fork in her thigh than let anyone see her cry.”

“So something must have happened,” Jared suggested. “Something big enough to break through her usual walls.” His face paled. “Mac or Josh? Your Dad?”

“Oh shit,” Jensen gasped as cold dread flooded him.

Jensen’s cell phone rang then. It was Josh’s ring tone, and Jensen felt a flutter of relief that Josh was okay, at least.

Jensen pulled back from Jared and fished out his phone. “Okay, let’s find out what’s going on.”

Jared nodded, lips in a grim line.

“Hey, Josh,” he said into the phone.

“Hey, Jensen.” His brother’s voice was strained.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, heart plummeting. “Why did Mom call me, and why was she crying? Are you okay? Is Mackenzie okay? Dad?”

“Mac’s fine. Are you sitting down?”

“No, do I need to be?”

“Yes. Is Jared there?”

“Yeah, Jared’s here,” Jensen said.

“Good, I’m glad. I wanna tell you both what happened, and I’d rather only do it once.”

“Hang on a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker.” Jensen laced his fingers through Jared’s and led them both into the living room, where they sat down on the sofa, Jared’s body solid and warm along his side. Jensen pushed the speaker button on the phone, then set it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Okay, we’re sitting down, can you hear us alright?”

“Yeah.” Josh’s voice was tinny from the cell phone speaker. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes!” Jensen was getting impatient. “Now, what’s going on?”

“Dad had a heart attack, Jensen,” Josh said, sounding exhausted. “He collapsed at work, hit his head on his desk, and fell. His secretary called for help, and they had someone trained in first aid and CPR there to help him until the ambulance arrived.”

“Oh my god.” Jensen felt a wave of numbness suffuse through him. His mouth hung open, unable to say anything else, and he was glad he was sitting down, because his legs went weak. Jared’s arm tightened around him.

“He’s okay,” Josh said quickly. “He’s alive. They got him to the hospital really fast, and he had surgery to put stents into the blocked arteries. He’s in the cardiology unit, recovering. Mom is there with him.”

Jensen stared dumbly at the phone, his throat tight.

“When?” Jared asked. “When did it happen?”

“This morning.”

“Is he awake? Have you seen him?”

If Jensen were remotely coherent, he’d be grateful that Jared was asking the questions _he_ should be asking.

“Yes, I was there on my lunch break. He’s awake and alert. Weak and hurting, but he’s going to be okay.”

“Good,”Jared said.

“Jensen, are you okay?” Josh asked. “You’re pretty quiet.”

Jensen cleared his throat, trying to speak around the spiky lump of _terrorangerfearshock_ that had lodged there. “Yeah… I’m here. I… don’t know if I’m okay.”

“I know the feeling.” Josh’s voice was weary.

Jensen pulled himself together. “Why did Mom call me, and why didn’t she say something?” he asked, and then blinked as he remembered that he had cut the call off before she could get around to the reason for it.

“You didn’t exactly give her a chance.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jensen mumbled. “Still doesn’t explain why she called me. She hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me in years.”

“That’s not true, Jensen,” Josh snapped, then blew out a breath. “Okay, it’s true that she hasn’t tried to get in touch with you, but what you don’t know is that both Mom and Dad have been trying to figure out how to reconnect with you for a while now.”

“Bullshit,” Jensen scoffed automatically, instinctive.

“Jensen.”

“You’re not kidding, are you?” A new feeling that Jensen couldn’t quite name dawned inside him. It squirmed in his stomach and crawled up into his chest.

“I know that Mac told you Dad was coming around when she saw you in Chicago,” Josh said.

Jensen thought back to that conversation with his sister―he hadn’t really believed her.

“She was kind of understating it. Mom and Dad have both been doing some major soul searching over the last year or two, and they’ve been trying to drum up the courage to call you. The very first thing Dad said to Mom when he woke up from the surgery was, ‘Call Jensen.’ He said he didn’t want to die without at least trying to reach you. So that’s when Mom called you.”

“God, no wonder she was crying and babbling.” Jensen dropped his face into his shaking hands. Jared pulled him sideways until Jensen’s head was resting on his chest. He took a breath, listening to the steady rhythm of Jared’s heartbeat.

“Ever since you did Oprah, Mom’s been trying to work up the nerve to call you,” Josh said after a long silence.

Jensen sat upright, startled. “She saw me on Oprah?”

Josh gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, she did. She made Dad watch it, too.” His voice turned serious again. “Listen, Jensen, a lot of this is really her story to tell. But you need to know. Mom seeing you talk on Oprah about what you went through when she and Dad rejected you, that really hit her hard. I think that since you left, she was focused on how you being gay affected _her_. Seeing your interview made her realize how her behavior affected you. It’s been an emotional time for her. She misses you, always has, but I think now she might be ready to accept you for who you are rather than try to make you change.”

Jensen could feel anger and disbelief simmering deep in his gut. “God, Josh, I don’t know what to think about all of that. I’m having a hard time believing it, to be honest.”

“It’s a lot to take in at once, I know, and you need to hear it from them. I’m not saying you should just forgive them right away, or that you should just let them back into your life. You know I’m on your side, and I know how bad they hurt you. But maybe think about it a bit, and call home in a day or two? Just to talk a little? Give them a chance to apologize?”

“I…” Jensen felt the spiky knot lodging in his throat again. “I’ll think about it.”

Josh let out an audible sigh of relief. “Good, that’s all I’m asking.”

Jensen fell silent again. His mind was racing but oddly blank, a rocket on autopilot with no destination, and he couldn’t make sense of it. He leaned back onto Jared’s chest, and Jared curled his arms around Jensen protectively.

“Okay, wow,” Jared said when Jensen showed no signs of responding. “How are you doing, Josh? You sound wrecked.”

Josh hummed a groan, exhaustion in every note. “It’s been a hell of a day. I was in court all morning, so I didn’t even find out about Dad until we broke for lunch and I got her voice mails. She was pretty hysterical, Jensen. I went to the hospital over my lunch break and saw Mom after her disastrous attempt to talk to you, so that was fun, but I had to be back in court. I’m done testifying for the time being, but I’m on standby until they adjourn so I’m camped out in the courthouse making phone calls. I’ve got to call Mac to update her when I’m done talking to you, and then figure out someone to watch the kids when Stephanie goes on her shift tonight so I can go back to the hospital this evening. So yeah, stressed. But I’m okay. It’s Dad I’m worried about.”

“How bad was the heart attack?” Jared asked.

“Well, any heart attack is serious. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Dad’s been on Aspirin for a while, he got to the hospital quickly, the stent operation worked well. Otherwise, he’s in pretty good health. He’ll just have to make some lifestyle changes.”

“How long will he be in the hospital?” Jensen asked.

“They think it will be three to four days before they let him go home. It depends on how quickly he stabilizes. I’ll be there to get him home; I’ve already made arrangements to take some time off, and Stephanie and I will both be around more to help him and Mom around the house.”

“Good,” Jensen said softly. Josh’s wife Stephanie was a registered nurse; having her there would be a huge comfort to everyone.

“Okay, thanks, Josh,” Jared said. “Is there anything else we really need to know? Because Jensen is pretty wrecked himself. We need time to deal.”

“Yeah, I totally get that. It’s a lot to cope with.” He paused, making a humming noise. “Nope, I can’t think of anything, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t forgotten something. Dad’s going to be okay. I know he and Mom would love to talk to you, if you’re willing, but that’s totally up to you. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know the latest.”

“Okay, thanks. Thanks for letting me know what was going on.”

“No problem, little brother. You get some rest, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jensen said. “Tell Mom… uh, I don’t know. Tell her that you talked to me and that I’m thinking about it.”

“I will. She’ll be glad to hear it. Jared, take care of my brother.”

“Always do,” Jared replied, matter-of-fact.

“Alright, I’ve gotta call Mac; she’s gonna be freaking out on me. Talk to you guys later.”

“Bye,” Jensen and Jared said in unison.

Jensen reached over to end the call, then stood and walked into the kitchen. He could feel Jared’s eyes on his back. He opened the sliding glass door and the dogs came galumphing in, their nails tic-tacking on the tile floor. Behind him, he could hear Jared putting out more food and water for them, talking softly to them about their trip to the backyard.

Jensen would normally find Jared cooing at the dogs adorable. He still did, actually, but it was miles away. He felt… _numb_ , while at the same time he knew an emotional storm was brewing. The shock would fade soon, and then he’d be battered by the gales.

Jared stepped up behind Jensen, hands on his hips, nestling his face into Jensen’s neck. “What can I do?” He sounded anxious, unsure. Jensen couldn’t remember the last time either of them didn’t know how to act around each other, and an ache twanged in his heart. “What do you need from me?”

Jensen scrubbed his palm across his face. His skin felt clammy. “I don’t even know, Jay. Christ. I feel like I’ve been squeezed through a garlic press.”

“How about we go lie down for a few?” Jared stepped back and laced his fingers with Jensen’s, pulling him toward the stairs.

That spiny, spiky knot of tension had dropped from Jensen’s throat to his chest, and he knew it would stab through him soon. “Yeah, alright.”

Jared led him up the stairs and into their bedroom, hands clasped together. Jensen was silent, trying to hold back the brimming emotion and exhaustion, and he just watched as Jared dipped his fingers into Jensen’s trousers to untuck his shirt. Jared’s eyes looked green in the light filtering through the blinds, and if Jensen wasn’t slipping into shock again, he’d want to kiss him.

Instead he let Jared undress him, long hands sliding across Jensen’s ribs and over his shoulders. Jensen toed out of his shoes as Jared unzipped his pants, pushing them down over his hips.

Jared quickly stripped himself, and they climbed into bed clad only in their boxers. Jared wrapped himself around Jensen, and Jensen tucked his face into Jared’s neck. “It’s gonna be okay, you know,” Jared whispered into his hair.

Jensen couldn’t speak. Instead he curled more tightly into Jared, his face heating up. The last time he’d felt like this, back when everything blew up when he was eighteen and his parents rained down fire and brimstone on him, Jared had been there in his dreams to help him cope. He wasn’t exactly on his own when he was awake; Chris was amazingly supportive and a great friend. But he was nowhere near as comforting as Jared was. This time, Jared was here, strong and warm beside him, real and physical, but Jensen still felt himself cartwheeling, unmoored. It had been too long since they’d dreamed together, and he needed that soul-deep connection to ground him again.

As the wetness seeped over his eyelids, Jensen felt himself succumbing to his exhaustion. His last conscious thought was that he desperately hoped Jared would be there with him in his dreams, too.

  


Jensen jerked upright, heart racing, heaving great gulps of breath. Threads of the nightmare clung to him, refusing to dissipate. He could still hear his mother’s voice shouting that he was going to hell, his father sneering as he called him a fairy fudgepacker. The evening sun splashed stripes across the wall from the blinds, and Jensen counted them, trying to get his mind to stop racing.

As he felt his heartbeat slowing, a sense of disappointment grew, bottoming out in his stomach. The one moment when he’d most needed to dream with Jared, when he’d needed that safe intimacy, he’d had a nightmare instead. And Jared wasn’t there.

“Hey, you okay?” Jared’s voice was gravelly from sleep. His large hand slid up Jensen’s spine to rest on the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” Jensen scraped his palm across his face and shivered. The room suddenly felt very cool on his sweat-slick skin. “Nightmare.”

Jared sat up and propped his chin on Jensen’s shoulder, his body warm as it wrapped around Jensen. “And I wasn’t there to pull you out of it.”

Jensen grunted in acknowledgment. “Does it worry you that we haven’t shared a dream in a while?”

Jared took a deep breath. “Yeah, it does. We haven’t ever gone this long without dreaming together. A couple of weeks, sure, but a couple of _months_? It’s…” He trailed off, and Jensen could tell Jared didn’t want to or know how to finish that sentence.

The cold shiver on Jensen’s skin sank into his chest. “Yeah, I know. They’ll come back soon,” he said with confidence he didn’t feel.

Jared sighed. “I hope so.”

_Me, too_ , Jensen thought. He didn’t want to think about how deeply he would grieve if the dreams never came back. The mere thought of it made his gut clench with despair.

After a long silence filled only by their breaths, Jared asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Jensen frowned―he couldn’t tell if Jared was referring to their lack of dreaming together, his father’s heart attack, or Josh’s news.

“The nightmare.”

Jensen blinked, surprised. “It was just a bunch of stuff from back when things blew up with my parents. Of course hearing from them would drag it all back up again. Yay for me.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen.” Jared pulled him closer, arm coming across his chest.

Jensen palmed Jared’s forearm and squeezed, and then let himself fall back to the bed. “I just don’t wanna think about any of it for a while.”

Jared ran his hand up Jensen’s chest and cupped his neck. “I can help you with that,” he said softly, pressing his fingers into the muscles at the top of Jensen’s shoulder blades.

Jensen closed his eyes and moaned. Shit, that felt good.

Jared pressed a kiss to Jensen’s forehead, lips trailing down to his temple. “Roll over.”

It was harder to turn onto his stomach than he expected it to be, his muscles complaining with the movement, and he groaned softly as he shifted in the bed. Jensen was surprised at just how achy he was, tendons deep in the muscles tight and sore, like he was dehydrated or he’d overexerted himself on a run.

Jensen lay face-down on the bed, pliant as Jared moved his arms down by his sides. The mattress jostled as Jared got up, and Jensen could hear him moving about the bedroom. A minute later, Jared climbed back onto the bed. Jensen slid his legs apart, expecting Jared to begin preparing him for sex, but Jared made a chiding noise.

“Not yet, Jen.” Jared pushed Jensen’s knees back together and straddled Jensen’s ass. Jensen let out a whoosh of air when Jared began rubbing oil into the skin of his back, palms and fingers working into the muscles. “You need this, first.”

“Ngh, so not disagreeing with you,” Jensen mumbled. Holy hell. “Mmmmhffooohhmhfnnnghhh…” Jensen moaned as Jared pushed the heels of his palms up both sides of his spine, causing a few of the vertebrae to pop.

Jared snickered. “Incoherent already? Damn, I’m good,”

Jensen wanted to make a sarcastic reply to that, but Jared had just pressed his thumbs into the tight spots between his shoulder blades, and all that came out of Jensen’s mouth was more unintelligible groaning.

Jared focused on Jensen’s neck at first, fingers pressing over the cords of his throat and working up into his hair, rubbing into his scalp. Digging into the muscles at the join of his neck and shoulders, Jared methodically found and worked out every knot and trigger point. Pressure-pain-pleasure washed through Jensen, and he felt himself starting to gradually unwind.

Jensen lost track of time as Jared worked on his upper back, using his elbows to lever into the knots around Jensen’s shoulder blades. He even slipped his hands under Jensen’s chest to pull on his pecs and work his fingers deep into his armpits, something that Jensen was astonished to find felt _incredible_. Jared was humming softly as he worked on Jensen, some tune that sounded vaguely familiar but which Jensen couldn’t quite name with his mind in a state of incoherent torpor. He was moaning and grunting almost continually now, but couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He was melting into a puddle of Jensen goo on the bed, he felt so relaxed.

Jared slowly moved down Jensen’s back, scooting further down the bed. He began kneading Jensen’s buttocks, and for the first time since the massage started, Jensen felt a spark of desire. But instead of touching to arouse him further, Jared dug his knuckles deep into Jensen’s ass cheek, finding knots buried in the muscle that Jensen didn’t even know was sore until now.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he whimpered.

“Good?” There was a slight note of concern in Jared’s voice. “Or is that too hard?”

“It’s _awesome_. Fuck, Jay, your hands.”

He could _hear_ the smile in Jared’s voice when he replied, “Yeah? What about my hands?”

“Love them on me,” Jensen said.

“Mmmm, me too,” Jared agreed, voice low. Jared worked Jensen’s other glute, digging around the hip joint. “Love touching your ass.”

“Please, by all means, continue,” Jensen said.

“Oh I will, I promise. I’ll come back and give your incredible ass some extra attention in a few minutes.” He shifted down the bed further, then, and began rubbing Jensen’s hamstrings, fingers slipping underneath to grip at the muscles on the front of his thighs. It felt amazingly good, and once again, Jensen was surprised at how sore he was.

He must have said that last part out loud, because Jared answered him. “You’ve been really tense for a while, since before the interview, and then you couldn’t relax because of the reactions to the interview and your book. You’ve probably needed a massage for at least a week, and then what happened today… of course everything is sore.”

“Makes sense, I suppose.”

Jared moved off the bed and propped Jensen’s foot up against his chest. He pressed his thumbs into Jensen’s calf muscle, pushing them up toward Jensen’s knee.

Jensen groaned— _shit_ , that was good. “When did you go to massage school, anyway?” he asked as Jared dug his fingers into the arch of his foot. “I should be paying you for this.”

Jared gave a pleased hum and moved to give the same treatment to Jensen’s other calf and foot. “We studied anatomy in art―you have to know where the muscles are to draw the body correctly. But the truth is that I just know you, know what you need.”

Jensen grinned into his pillow. “Is that so?”

Jared’s voice was mischievous when he answered, “Absolutely. Didn’t you know? We’re psychically connected.”

“Oh.” Jensen feigned ignorance. “That must explain it. But I think I need some proof of this supposed psychic connection before I’ll believe you.”

The bed shifted as Jared climbed back onto it, this time nudging Jensen’s thighs apart with his knees. “I think I can manage that,” he said, voice low and sly. “For instance, right now you want me to do this.” He slid his oil-slick fingers between Jensen’s buttocks and began swirling them around his entrance, rubbing the oil into the puckered skin there.

“Oh holy fuck, Jared,” Jensen gasped. He thrust his legs out wider and arched his hips up, trying to give Jared better access. He went instantly from slightly aroused to throbbing hard, his straining cock shifting on the sheet beneath him.

Jared continued massaging Jensen’s hole gently, not pressing very far inwards but teasing around the flesh in maddening circles. “And now―” Jared fumbled on the bed for what Jensen desperately hoped was a bottle of lube “―you want me to do this.”

There was a sudden flash of cold gel as Jared pressed his finger into Jensen, thrusting it in and out gently, working the lubricant into the muscle.

“Yup, you’re a fucking mind reader.” Jensen bit his lip. Jared’s finger felt so fucking _good_ , sending sparks of pleasure radiating through Jensen’s body as it moved in and out of him. He could feel that his stomach was getting slippery where the pre-come was oozing out of his cock, and he began thrusting back onto Jared’s finger, and then forward again to press his cock into the mattress.

Jared pulled his finger out of Jensen, but quickly returned with two. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress, make you come so hard you see stars. Isn’t that right?”

“Fuck yes, Jay,” Jensen’s voice was shaky.

Jared pressed his fingers forward into Jensen’s prostate, rubbing rhythmically. Jensen nearly arched off the bed at the lightning pleasure that careened through him.

Jared moaned, clearly turned on by Jensen’s response. “God, I love doing this to you. So fucking hot.” He continued the assault on Jensen’s prostate for another few minutes, and somewhere in there two fingers became three, but Jensen didn’t notice the addition at first. He just felt stretched open and electric, crackling with pleasure. He could feel his orgasm building, and knew it would be intense—his prostate orgasms often left him insensate and delirious for minutes at a time.

But just when he thought he would topple over the edge, Jared withdrew his fingers. “Not yet, Jensen,” he whispered into his ear, lips brushing the tender skin of his neck.

Jensen moaned at the loss, his hips rutting without his permission. Jared clamped his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing to prevent his orgasm. “Jare…” Jensen whimpered his complaint.

“Don’t come just yet,” Jared said. He shifted to lay on top of Jensen, his firm, warm body pressing Jensen down into the mattress. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.” Jared nuzzled Jensen’s neck, nipping bites to his ear and throat, then kissing the side of Jensen’s face reverently, tongue darting out to lick at Jensen’s lips.

Jensen kissed back as best as he could given the awkward angle, but he really couldn’t move much. It felt _amazing_. He was surrounded by Jared; his husband’s weight wasn’t uncomfortable at all. On the contrary, Jensen felt safe having Jared on top of him like this.

And then Jared began pushing his cock into Jensen, a slow, unceasing press inside him. Jensen keened, incoherent. The first thrust always burned just a little―Jared was quite well endowed—but Jensen loved it. The ache grounded him, made it real, ratcheted up the intensity of the sensations.

Jared let out a groan then. “Feel so good, Jensen,” he sighed.

Jensen moaned out his agreement, unable to say anything remotely articulate.

Resting his chest on Jensen’s back, Jared ran his hands up Jensen’s arms and laced their fingers together. It felt crazily intimate like this, even though Jensen couldn’t see Jared well from this position. But Jared enveloped him, was inside him and covered him, breathing into his ear, his hair falling into Jensen’s face.

Jared began thrusting gently then, slow slide out, sharper jab in, cock ghosting over Jensen’s prostate again and sending trills of pleasure through his body. Jared’s weight pressed Jensen’s cock into the mattress, and Jensen knew he’d be able to come without any additional stimulation; Jared’s cock and the friction from the sheet below him would be more than enough. He took a deep breath and tried to stave his orgasm off. This felt so incredible that he didn’t want it to be over yet.

In all the years they’d been fucking, both in their dreams and in real life, Jared had mastered the art of driving Jensen to the edge of orgasm and holding him there. He did that now, rocking into his prostate and then shifting his angle to miss the spot when Jensen started shivering.

“Jare…” Jensen wanted to come; he wanted this to never end. “Jared, let me up.”

Jared stopped thrusting, panting in Jensen’s ear. “You okay?”

“I’m awesome. Just not ready to be done yet.” He loved having Jared take care of him, but he needed something a little different now. He shifted his knees under him and pushed backward.

Jared slid out of him, then grinned when Jensen pressed him down onto his back. Jensen clambered on top of him and sat back down onto Jared’s cock. “Yeah, that’s it,” Jensen moaned.

“Oh fuck, Jen,” Jared gasped, his hands moving to Jensen’s hips and squeezing. “Goddamn, look at you.”

Jensen reached behind him to rest his palms on Jared’s knees, and used them for leverage to begin working himself up and down Jared’s cock, rolling and swiveling his hips.

And _Christ_ , that felt good. The angle was perfect―the head of Jared’s cock battering Jensen’s prostate, and Jensen felt his climax percolating deep in his spine. His head fell back, mouth open, and he felt himself starting to shake.

“Fuck, yeah!” Jared groaned. “Come on, almost there…” He began thrusting up to meet Jensen, hands on his hips pulling him down with more force, a little faster, and Jensen jolted above him, riding the knife’s edge. He was going to come, and he was going to come without Jared once touching his cock.

“God, yeah, do it,” Jared grunted, fingers bruising into his hipbones. “Let me feel you come.”

Jensen’s orgasm blazed through him like a fire, scorching all his nerve endings as he shuddered violently. Jared fisted his dick right as it started, catching the spurts of his seed and using it to slide his hand up and down Jensen’s length, which sent additional shocks of electricity arching through Jensen. He howled with pleasure, sparks flashing behind his eyelids, and then he felt Jared begin shaking beneath him.

“Fffffuucking _hell_!” Jared cursed. His thrusts sped up, battering Jensen’s prostate and stretching the pleasure out like salt water taffy. Jensen continued to writhe uncontrollably on top of Jared, who choked out a whimper as he came, hard tremors wracking his body as he spurted hot and slick inside Jensen.

Finally, the quivering faded, light filtered back into Jensen’s consciousness, and he gradually realized that he had collapsed onto Jared’s chest. They were both breathing heavily, Jared still sheathed inside of him, arms clenched tightly around Jensen’s shoulders.

Jared traced his nose against the lines of Jensen’s throat. “How’s that for proof that I know what you want?” His lips curled into a smile against Jensen’s skin.

It took a moment for Jensen to be able to make his voice work correctly. “I’m definitely convinced,” he said.

And to further prove his point, Jared stayed put for another few minutes, exactly as Jensen wanted. Eventually, though, their sweat began to cool, and Jared’s softened cock slipped out of Jensen’s body.

Jensen lifted his head and kissed Jared gently. “Back in a sec,” he said, then climbed off Jared and went into the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm water. His legs felt rubbery as he cleaned himself, and then he returned to the bedroom to clean Jared as well. Jared had taken such lovely care of him, he wanted to return the favor now.

Jared hummed in pleasure, then took the rag from Jensen to finish the job. He tossed the washcloth toward the dirty clothes hamper, then pulled Jensen back into the bed, draping the sheet over them. Jensen wasted no time before kissing his husband soundly, tongue slipping into Jared’s mouth.

“Love you,” he said against Jared’s lips. “Thank you, I had no idea I needed that.”

Jared pulled back long enough to gaze warmly at him. “I did.” His expression turned smug.

Jensen laughed and swatted Jared on the shoulder.

Jared sniggered and snuggled in closer, tucking one leg between Jensen’s thighs and nuzzling his face into the space below Jensen’s jaw. “I love you, too, you know,” he said softly, his lips brushing Jensen’s skin.

“Yeah, I know.” Jensen tipped Jared’s face up by his chin so he could kiss him again.

  


“So what are you thinking?” Jared asked, breaking the silence. They’d eventually been forced to get out of bed by Jared’s stomach, which had protested loudly the fact that he’d missed lunch. A couple of quick sandwiches later, and Jared and Jensen were lounging on the sofa together, watching television, Jared spooning around Jensen with Sadie and Harley curled up on the floor in front of them. Yet Jensen wasn’t really paying attention to the TV.

He twisted his head to look up at Jared, surprised. He’d figured Jared had dozed off from how still and quiet he’d been.

Jared carded his fingers through Jensen’s hair. “You’re thinking pretty loudly there. Wanna talk about it?”

Jensen rolled to face him. “I’m kind of all over the place right now. I don’t know what to do about it.”

Jared slotted one knee between Jensen’s thighs. “That’s completely understandable.”

Jensen nodded.

“Jen, I was lucky my family was so accepting. I can’t imagine how it would have killed me to go through what your parents did to you. I could see how it affected you then: you became more reserved in high school, and stopped being the gregarious boy who snuck out to give me a birthday present. And I can see how it still affects you: you try to keep yourself at a distance from people until you know them really well, like how you did with me when we first met. Part of me is still so angry at your mom and dad for hurting you like that. But if it’s true they want to reconcile with you, you have a chance to do some healing.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive them,” Jensen admitted, frowning.

“I’m not asking you to forgive them. You know I’ll back you no matter what you decide. But if you can have a better relationship with them, if you can let go of some of the hurt left over from back then, maybe you should consider at least talking to them. Listen to what they have to say, and then you can make up your mind.”

“You know, I had thought I’d accepted it,” Jensen mused. “I thought I was as okay as I could be with it. Writing _Husband Tree_ was therapeutic in a lot of ways; it helped me work through a lot of the pain. But when I heard Mom’s voice, all of it came flooding right back―it was just as intense as the day I moved out.”

“That’s because it was never really resolved,” Jared said. “You did the best you could, but they are your parents, your family. Not like an ex you can just cut out of your life and forget about.” He slid his palm up Jensen’s ribs, then back down to his hip.

“It will still probably all go sideways.” Jensen scowled.

“Then at least you’ll know you tried. You gave them a chance and they blew it. And everything else will stay the same. You’ll still have Mac, Josh, Chris, Steve, and Danneel, you’ll still be the love of my life, you’ll still be a successful writer and college professor. But if things don’t go sideways, if they go well, then you get all of that, plus your parents back. You can only win here, Jensen.”

“There you go being all scarily well-adjusted, again.” Jensen gazed in awe at his husband. _This_ was his Jared, not the brooding version of his husband that he’d been living with the last few weeks, and Jensen was surprised at just how relieved he was to have Jared acting more like his usual self. Jared seemed to have worked through whatever had been bothering him, and Jensen was too grateful for words.

Jared looked inordinately pleased with himself. “That’s just one of my many talents. Have to balance out your jaded pessimism somehow.”

Jensen swatted Jared on the shoulder. “Ass.”

Jared just snickered and pulled Jensen in closer, arm wrapping around his back. “You love my ass.”

“This is true.” Jensen’s mind was wandering back to his parents. He bit his lip and fell silent again. He knew Jared was right, theoretically, but he was still apprehensive. Things might essentially stay the same if the conversation didn’t go well, but it would mean going through all that heartache again.

“Is it worth the risk?” he asked after a couple of minutes, looking Jared in the eyes.

“I think so, yes,” Jared answered, serious again. “But you don’t have to decide right now. I know you, you need to think about it for a day or two. Take your time. Focus on school for a bit, finish grading those exams. Talk it over with Tom, or Chris or Steve, or Jeffrey even. Or talk to me, you know I’ll listen to anything you have to say. And then you can decide what to do.”

“Hmm, okay, yeah. That makes more sense than me sitting here ruminating over it, I suppose.”

“Which you’ll do anyway, but at least it will be productive ruminating.”

Jensen’s mouth curled into a wry smile. Jared really did know him. Rolling over to face the television again, he fumbled for the remote. “How about we find something to watch that involves a lot of explosions?”

“Ooh, I like that idea,” Jared said, his hand sliding up to rest over Jensen’s heart. “Or something scary so I can scream in terror and clutch at you like a little kid.”

Jensen scoffed. “You don’t need an excuse to grope me, Jay. You’d do that even if we were watching a kid’s movie.”

Jared erupted into one of his full-body laughs, head thrown back, body shaking behind Jensen. “It’s like you _know_ me or something,” he said when he got control of himself.

“Wow, imagine that!” Jensen snarked. He brought up the channel guide. “Let’s see if we can find anything decent to watch.”

  


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

The next afternoon, Jensen was camped out in his living room grading papers. Well, to be completely honest, he was procrastinating.

Before Jared went to work that morning, they’d talked again about Jensen calling his mother. That was the plan. And though Jensen hadn’t committed to it yet, he was pricing out airfare to Dallas. He just knew that if he talked to his parents, they’d want him to come visit. Jensen suspected he was going to cave―for all the reasons he and Jared had talked about the night before. So he’d gone in for his morning classes, canceled all his classes for Thursday and Friday, and now he was grading essays in an attempt to postpone calling his parents.

Jensen flopped the last paper down on the coffee table with a sigh. He was done, finally. He stood up and stretched, rolling his head to work the kinks out of his neck.

Harley jumped up from where he’d been napping with Sadie. Tail wagging furiously, Harley obviously thought that now Jensen was done working he was available to play. Sadie did a long stretch herself, and came up to Jensen, nosing in front of Harley for some love.

Jensen chuckled. “Come on guys, let’s go outside!”

At the word “outside” both dogs began wriggling and yipping with glee. Grabbing his sunglasses off the hallway table, Jensen herded the dogs onto the back porch. Harley immediately launched into his usual galloping circuit of the back yard, while Sadie ran to do her business over by a bush.

Jensen grabbed a tennis ball out of the basket of dog toys on the porch, and spent a few mindless minutes throwing it out into the yard and watching the dogs race each other to fetch it. He lobbed the tennis ball one last time, tossed out a few other favorite toys, then went back into the house to wash his hands. The dogs would be good outside for a little while.

He stood in the kitchen, dithering for what felt like hours and seconds at the same time, then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Josh had texted him his mother’s cell phone number earlier. _Call her cell_ , it read. _shes @ the hospital all day._

“All right, no more avoiding it, Jensen,” he scolded himself.

Half-hoping that it would go to her voice mail as he dialed the number, Jensen took a deep breath.

“Hello?” The voice that answered was not the one he was expecting. This one was male, soft, and scratchy. It took Jensen two breaths to realize it was his father.

“H-hello?” Jensen stuttered.

“Jensen? Is that you?” It was his father’s voice, but weaker, more gravelly, audibly tired. That wasn’t how his father was supposed to sound―he’d always had a loud, commanding voice, strong and smooth.

Jensen cleared his throat, trying not to choke. “Um, yeah, Dad, it’s me.” He was surprised his father recognized his voice.

“Thank you for calling.” Alan’s tone was somber. “I was worried you wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t blame you for it.”

Jensen had to take a few seconds to adjust. In his morbid imagination he had pictured his father unconscious and attached to numerous tubes and wires. He certainly hadn’t thought he’d be well enough to answer the phone.

“Are you okay, Dad?” he asked when he realized he’d been standing there gaping like a fish.

“I’ve been better, but I’m okay,” Alan responded. “The doctors say I’m going to be fine.”

“That’s good,” Jensen said, relief coloring his tone. “Um, Mom called me yesterday. I was just calling her back. Where is she?”

“She’s down in the cafeteria with Susan, getting some coffee. She needed to get out of this room for a bit and stop focusing on me. She can talk with Susie about how _she’s_ feeling and stop mothering me for a while.”

Jensen remembered their neighbor Susan, with whom Donna was close friends. She always had four or five cats running about her house, most of them the expensive pure-bred, long-haired cats that looked like they’d smashed headlong into a wall, and Jensen had gotten sick from playing with one of the kittens when he was six. Her cats were also one of the reasons why his mother never let them get a dog. “Does she still have half a dozen cats?” he asked, looking for something to talk about.

Alan chuckled, and his voice wheezed. “Yes, blasted things keep reproducing, too. She’s always selling or giving away kittens. And last week I caught one of them shitting in our flower beds, again. Nailed it with the hose, and you should have seen the way it yowled and dashed out of the yard!” He sounded really proud of that, and Jensen groaned silently, rolling his eyes. His father’s war with the neighborhood cats was _epic_ and never-ending.

Awkward silence stretched across the gap between them while Jensen struggled to figure out what to say. No matter how hard they both seemed to be trying, they weren’t at a level of familiarity anymore where they could just shoot the shit about anything and everything. “Um, Mom said you wanted her to call me.”

Alan took a shaky breath, and the tone of the conversation shifted again. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?” Jensen asked, nearly a whisper. That old familiar dread washed over him, the same bone-deep foreboding he’d had all through high school, the terror of being exposed and rejected. It was irrational, he knew, because his father knew he was gay and had already rejected him once. Would he reject him again?

“Listen, Jensen,” Alan started. “Your mother and I, we handled finding out you were gay very badly.”

_Gee, ya think?_ Jensen thought, raising his eyebrows. That was the understatement of the century. But it was the first time he’d heard Alan use the word “gay,” which was a vast improvement over the variations on _homo, fag, queer, unnatural, abnormal, sinner,_ and _pervert_ that he’d used in abundance when Jensen was eighteen.

“If you’ll let me, I want to apologize to you. Your mother and I, well… we both have a lot that we want to say to you. Things we need to explain. We want to make amends, Jensen, to whatever extent you’ll allow us.”

“Dad…” he started, trying to put his thoughts together into something coherent. “I don’t know what―”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Jensen.” Alan’s words came out in a rush. “Well, actually I’m hoping for that, but I don’t expect it just yet. I just want to be able to talk to you about it. I want you to know that I don’t hate you. I love you, you’re my _son_ , and it doesn’t matter to me anymore if you’re gay. I know that’s who you are, it’s how you were born, and it isn’t something you can change.”

Jensen bit his lip, completely blindsided. “Why? You made such a big deal about me being this huge disappointment; no son of yours would be a _fag_. Why the change of heart?” He was proud that he’d managed to say it matter-of-factly, without letting his hurtling emotions bleed into his voice.

His father sighed. “I wish you were here, son, so I could see your face. This kind of conversation isn’t best done over a phone. But I’m lucky to at least have that, so…” Alan took another shaky breath. “No matter what I said back then, Jensen, those awful things I said, I’ve missed you terribly since you left. I’m sorry for what I said, for what I did. I’m sorry I haven’t called you before now. I’ve wanted to for so long, but I knew I’d pushed you away, and if you hate me, I know I deserve it. And then when I had this heart attack, the only thing I could think was that I’d die regretting everything I said and did to you. I’d die regretting that I never contacted you and made amends. It broke me, Jensen. So when I woke up after the surgery, I decided I wasn’t going to wait any longer to get in touch with you.”

“Dad…” Jensen stopped his father. He needed to breathe. In all of his imaginings, this was more than he’d ever hoped to hear his father say, so much more than he ever thought was remotely possible. He never dreamed his father would admit he was wrong. Alan was not the type of person to express his emotions well, so this… confession… etched cracks in Jensen’s concept of his father’s personality.

“I’m sorry, Jensen. I know this is a lot for you.”

“I’m fine.” Jensen steeled himself. “I’m fine.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you be willing to consider coming home to visit?”

Jensen swallowed. “Home is LA now,” he said instinctively. He hit himself on the forehead the moment he realized how that actually sounded.

Alan gave a disappointed sigh. “Of course, I understand.”

“Dad, wait. That’s not what… I wasn’t saying no. I just… I haven’t thought of Texas as home since I left. But I am thinking about going back. Jared and I have wanted to come out to see Josh and Stephanie and the new baby, anyway, and it would give us a chance to see everyone.”

“Would you be willing to come see us while you’re here? I just have so much more that I want to say to you, Jensen, things I want to talk about with you face-to-face. I need to see you to know that you understand. We can help you with the plane tickets if you need it.”

“That won’t be necessary. We can afford tickets on our own, but thank you.”

His father’s voice sounded hopeful. “When do you think you can come down?”

Jensen sat down with his laptop and clicked on the browser page where he had flights to Dallas looked up. “I was thinking tomorrow, actually. I’ve already canceled my classes, and Jared’s getting the time off work. If we don’t come this weekend, the soonest we’d be able to would be after Christmas.” They already had plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and between now and then, things were going to get even busier for Jensen, with finals approaching; it wasn’t practical to take time off then.

“Oh, that would be wonderful, Jensen.” Alan sounded so relieved, so happy; Jensen actually felt a little spark of pride that he’d been able to make his father feel that way.

Jensen selected the best flights for the next day, then clicked on the “Purchase” button.

“Alright, we’ll be in tomorrow afternoon. We can stay the weekend, but we have to head home on Sunday.”

“Thank you, Jensen. I can’t wait to see you. And Jared. I’m looking forward to meeting him, too.” Alan was starting to sound tired.

Jensen blinked, surprised that his father didn’t seem fazed at all at the notion of meeting Jared. “Um, good. I’ll let you know once we have our travel arrangements finalized.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Dad.”

Jensen hung up the phone, and tried to put his emotions aside by focusing on booking a hotel and car rental.

He’d just got his receipt and itinerary in his email when he heard the garage door open and the rumble of Jared’s Bronco pulling in. _Thank God_. He really needed to talk to Jared about this, and he was hoping Jared could help him make sense of the conversation and stop the emotional ping-ponging he was going through.

A minute later, the kitchen door opened and slammed shut, the bang echoing through the house.

“Jared?”

He could hear Jared swear colorfully and then take a deep breath. Finally Jared stomped through the kitchen into the living room. He was smiling, but it looked forced, his jaw clenched.

“You alright?” Jensen asked, moving over to greet his husband.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jared returned Jensen’s hug. His entire body was rigid. “It’s just shit at work. It’s alright, Jen. I just gotta put it out of my mind.”

“You sure?”

Jared nodded, his jaw still flexing. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Did you get tomorrow off?” Jensen was brimming with the need to talk about his call with his father.

Jared let out a huff that sounded a little sarcastic. “Yeah. Weekend too. Are we going to Richardson, then?”

“Yeah. I talked to my dad, and he asked us to come visit.”

Jared immediately shifted into comforting mode, the transition between rigid and concerned more than a little abrupt. “Holy crap, you talked to your dad? How did it go?”

Jensen sat back down on the sofa, Jared next to him, and began pouring it all out. “Surprisingly well, actually. He answered Mom’s phone, and he apologized.” Jensen recapped the entire conversation to Jared, whose eyebrows gradually inched higher and higher on his forehead.

“Wow. See? They really do want to apologize,” he said, his body more relaxed now, his face shifting into a hopeful expression.

“Maybe. Well, Dad does, at least. He says he’s got a lot more to tell me, though, stuff he wants to say to my face. I don’t know about Mom.”

“I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, won’t we?” Jensen stood up, brimming with nervous energy. He needed to _do_ something, keep himself occupied so he didn’t freak out. “I booked our flight and hotel and car; we have to be at the airport tomorrow by ten. I have to take these papers back in to work so I can get my TAs to return them, since I won’t be in class tomorrow afternoon or Friday.” He stacked the graded essays and slid them into his messenger bag.

“Alright. Want me to start packing for you?” Jared asked, looking up at him.

Jensen felt his shoulders relax. He gave his husband a relieved smile. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“You’re welcome. Are the kids outside?”

Jensen nodded as he hefted his bag over his shoulder. “Crap. We gotta figure out what we’re gonna do with them.”

“I’ll call Sandy and Chris. We can meet up with them this evening―we have to cancel our dinner plans with them tomorrow anyway. I’m sure they’ll be happy to watch the dogs for the weekend.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Besides, I need to let Chris know what’s happening, too. He’ll deck me if I go see my parents without telling him what’s going on first.”

Jared laughed. “Yeah, he will. Alright, you go take care of your students and I’ll make plans with Sandy and Chris. How about dinner?”

Jensen kissed him. “That’s great. Back in a bit.”

  



	4. Three

  


Thursday, October 26, 2006

Jensen’s head hit the ceiling of the plane as he made his way down the aisle, carry-on bag in front of him, and he had to duck to avoid a low-hanging monitor. “Watch your head, Jay.”

Behind him there was a thump, then a muttered curse. “Man, these planes are built for midgets.”

Jensen snorted, looking back to see his husband bending his legs and stooping, tilting his head nearly sideways. Even still, his hair was brushing along the ceiling. Jensen knew the moment Jared sat down, he was going to have static-hair.

“Don’t even say it.” Jared scowled, clearly reading the intent on Jensen’s face.

Jensen shot him a shrug and half a smirk. “At least we managed to get exit row seats this time.”

“Yeah, small miracle given how last-second you booked. I’m just glad Sandy and Chris could take the kids on such short notice.”

“Me, too.” Chris and Sandy had totally understood why they had to bail on their dinner plans. Chris had been furious on Jensen’s behalf―he’d seen first-hand Donna and Alan’s prejudice and intolerance all through Jensen’s high school years, and he’d been Jensen’s refuge when his parents’ self-righteousness got to be too much to deal with. Chris also had been there when Jensen’s parents kicked him out of the house, witnessed all the ugliness and the screaming and the crying, and he was worried Jensen was opening himself up to more abuse. Jensen half-wondered if Chris was right, no matter what his father said. Sandy, on the other hand, had been the voice of reason, and she was supportive of Jensen going to see his parents.

Jared, though, had been uncharacteristically quiet all evening.

Jensen reached their row and hefted his carry-on into the overhead bin. He was tempted to pull out his laptop, maybe do some work on the book he was plotting—and goddammit, that reminded him he needed to reschedule his teleconference this afternoon with Danni and Sera. With everything that had happened, he’d completely forgotten about it, particularly given how tightly he was strung since his conversation with his father. He needed to tell Danni what was happening, too. Shit, he couldn’t deal with all of this right now.

Jensen fished out the paperback novel he’d thrown in the front pocket of his bag and the magazine of variety crossword/logic puzzles and put them in the seat-back pocket as he sat down. While Jared secured his bag next to Jensen’s in the overhead compartment, Jensen sent Danni a quick text. _Need to reschedule call with Sera until next week. Thursday or Friday afternoon is good._ That would give him plenty of time to deal with this trip and get back into the writing frame of mind. He then shut off his phone, because he wasn’t prepared to answer Danni’s inevitable questions. He’d talk to her later, afterward. Once he knew how well this visit was going to go.

Jared shoved a sketchbook and his Nintendo DS into his seat pocket, then folded himself into the center seat. Sure enough, just as Jensen predicted, he had to run his hands through his hair to tame the static flyaways.

Jensen watched him, quietly amused. Despite being in the exit row, Jared’s legs still barely fit in the aisle, his knees brushing up against the seat in front of him as he fished his seatbelt on. Finally settled in, Jared looked up at Jensen and smiled when he realized he’d been watching.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Jared said.

And just like that, Jensen’s nerves were back. Not that they were ever really gone, but he’d been able to not think about them in the press to get to the airport, through security, and to their gate. Now that there was no more rushing to be anywhere, it was hitting him again.

He nodded and looked out the window, watching the ground crews move luggage toward the back of the plane. “I know.” It would be okay no matter what his parents did. Jensen was determined. This would either be the start of a reconciliation, or their final goodbye. Either option was something he could live with. But he couldn’t help the anxiety spinning in his chest, nor the tiny mote of hope that it would end up being a happy reunion. They had a lot to go through before they knew how this was going to play out, and Jensen knew much of it would be unpleasant.

The flight attendants started their pre-flight routine and safety speech then, and Jensen sat back to pay attention. Jared’s hand never left his thigh, and when they took off, Jensen laced their fingers together.

“You sure you wanna stick with the hotel?” Jared asked once they were airborne.

“No way am I staying at my parents’ house, not until we’re on much better terms, and I don’t see that happening on this trip. Mackenzie has a tiny apartment, no room for us, and Josh and Steph have the new baby and crazy work schedules right now. I know it’s more expensive this way, but I need the space just for us on this trip, alright? Besides, it’s already booked.”

Jared’s eyebrows rose at Jensen’s sharp tone. “Hey, that’s fine with me. You just didn’t say that before, so I didn’t know why you decided to go with a hotel.”

Jensen was about to argue the point, but he mentally replayed their interaction after he’d made their reservations and was surprised to realize he _hadn’t_ said anything about why he was set on a hotel. He’d just assumed Jared knew.

Disconcerted, he palmed his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just…”

Jared’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I get it, it’s okay. I understand why you’re freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

Jared gave him his “you can’t bullshit me, I know you” look. “Yes, you’re freaking out. This is a big deal. And it’s going to be okay.”

Jensen scowled. Truth was he felt like he was all over the map right now, emotionally: scared about his father’s heart attack, angry at both of his parents, hoping that maybe they’d actually reconcile, worried that this was going to blow up in his face―or worse, Jared’s face.

“Oh, I know it will be, one way or another. They had just better be polite to you, or I am going to rip their heads off.” He didn’t really even care if they were rude to him―he’d heard it from them before and it wouldn’t be anything new. But he’d be damned before he’d let his parents get away with treating Jared like shit.

Jared’s lips quirked. “I’m a big boy, Jen, I can handle some negativity. I’ve heard worse before, hear it practically every day at the gym.”

Jensen sighed. “That’s not the point.”

“I know. But look. They called you because they want to see you again. They want to be a part of your life again. Your dad apologized over the phone and they want to do it again in person. They’re not going to go to all that trouble to beg you to come home over the phone only to snub me or start a fight when we get there.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be rude. They may think they’re okay with you, but it’ll be different seeing us together in person than it is in theory. I will not put up with them if they try to put you down.”

Jared broke into a grin, dimples and white teeth. “So noble of you.”

“Shut up, I’m serious.”

Jared’s fingers pressed into Jensen’s thigh. “I know you are. But think about it. Your father is recovering from a heart attack. He can’t do high-stress anything right now. So he’s not going to pick a fight with you.”

“But Mom might,” Jensen insisted. “She was always the more religious one, the one who preached at me about being a depraved sinner. I won’t let her do that to you.”

Jared shifted to face Jensen better. “Thank you, but I doubt it will come to that. Do you want me to not be so touchy-feeley with you when we’re around them? Give them less to get upset over?”

Jensen shook his head. “Absolutely not. We are not going to change a single thing about how we are together for them. They can either accept us as we are, or they can kiss my ass.” Plus, Jensen knew he would need Jared’s support just to get through the next few days. He needed Jared’s touchy-feely-ness, felt a bit starved for it, actually. It might be sappy, but touch was an important part of their relationship, and he didn’t want to do without it.

“Alright,” Jared said, looking proud. “Doubt I could have stopped anyway.”

Jensen laughed despite himself. “Yeah, you’re such a limpet.”

Jared quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I don’t ever hear you complain about it, so secretly you _love_ it.”

Jensen smiled, feeling relieved. “Yeah, I do.”

Jared looked inordinately pleased with himself as he settled back into his seat. He fished out his DS and turned it on, disentangling his fingers from Jensen’s. “Good. So let’s just focus on how it’s going to be awesome to see Josh and Stephanie and Kyle and Claire, and Mackenzie. Whatever happens with your parents, we’ll still make this a good trip.”

Jensen propped his head on his husband’s shoulder, hand moving to Jared’s thigh. “Yeah. No matter what.” He looked out the window again, watching the clouds and the ground move below them. Despite the pep talk from Jared, Jensen’s stomach refused to settle. He suspected it wouldn’t until whatever was going to happen with his parents happened. There was nothing he could do but get there and get through it.

“Who’s the limpet now?” Jared snarked softly as he pressed the controls on his DS, the opening chimes for Super Mario Brothers sounding before Jared inserted the headphone jack.

“Shut up.”

  


Jared’s mother called just as they found the waiting room in the cardiac ward of the hospital. Jensen had checked in with the nurse, who told them to sit down and someone would be there to take them to Alan’s room shortly. Apparently Alan was in the middle of an exam, so it would be a few minutes.

“No, Mom, we don’t need you to come up here,” Jared said, catching Jensen’s attention.

Jensen shook his head at his husband. After the flight and the drive through Dallas traffic, he was feeling tense and jittery, and the less he had to worry about, the better.

“Oh, fine.” Jared waved Jensen over and put the phone on speaker. “You’re on speaker, Ma.”

“Jensen, you there?” Sherri asked.

“Hi, Sherri,” Jensen said as he sat down next to Jared.

“Jensen, honey, are you okay?” Her voice was affectionate and concerned, and Jensen felt a little better just hearing her.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I can be up there in five hours, you know. I don’t mind the drive.”

“No, Sherri, please, that’s okay. We’re fine. We don’t know what’s going on yet, and you’d have nothing to do.”

“Nonsense. I’d be there to support you, however you need me.”

Jensen huffed out a laugh. He loved Sherri, he truly did. She’d pretty much adopted him, and she had filled a void in his life when she accepted him and Jared without question after they’d explained the nature of their relationship. But he really didn’t need her to come up right now. He doubted she’d actually cause a scene with Donna, even though she’d made it clear to him on a number of occasions that she disapproved of how his parents handled finding out he was gay, but he just couldn’t risk any additional conflict right now.

“Thanks, Sherri, but no, I’m good. We need to deal with my family on our own.”

“Boy, you are my family,” Sherri scolded.

Affection bloomed in Jensen’s chest. “I know. I love you, too, Sherri. And I really appreciate that you’re willing to drive all the way up here just to support me. But that’s not necessary.”

Sherri sighed. “Alright. But you promise me that if you need me, you’ll call, alright? I’ll get in the car and head right on up, doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Sure, Mom,” Jared said, a fondly exasperated look on his face. “Promise.”

“Jensen? I didn’t hear your voice there.”

“I promise, Sherri. We’ll let you know if we need you.”

“Good. And feel free to come down here any time, if you need to. Gerry and I would love to see you both. You sure you can’t come over before you head home?”

“Mom, no,” Jared said. “We really can’t. We’re only here for a few days, and we haven’t seen Jensen’s brother and sister in a while, and we don’t have that many miles allowed on the rental car.”

Jensen added, “We’ll see you again at Christmas, you know.”

“Of course, we’re looking forward to it.” Her voice turned soft and motherly again. “I really want to give you a hug right now, Jensen.”

Jensen could almost feel it. Sherri gave great hugs―Jared definitely got that trait from his mother. 

Jared gave a mock-pout. “What about me, Mama? I swear you love Jensen more than me.”

Sherri chuckled. “Jensen’s my son now, too, Jay. I have plenty of hugs for you both.”

Jensen smiled, feeling much cheerier than he had when they’d walked into the hospital. “Looking forward to it.”

“Alright then, I’ll let you boys go. Call me before you go home and let me know how you’re doing, and let me know any time if you need me.”

“Will do, Mama,” Jared said, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“I love you both. Jensen, don’t you doubt that for a second, alright?”

Jensen could feel his cheeks flushing. “I won’t. I love you too, Sherri. Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to you later, Mom. Love you.”

Sherri said goodbye and Jared ended the call, chuckling. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer from me.” 

Jensen leaned into Jared’s shoulder. “I love your mom, even when she’s being _too_ motherly. It’s nice that she cares that much.”

Jared put his phone into his pocket with an agreeable hum, and then went stock still.

Jensen looked up at his husband, and then followed his gaze across the room, feeling his heart stutter in his chest.

His mother was standing in the doorway, watching them with a pained expression on her face.

Jensen was stunned. She looked so much older than he remembered. Still beautiful, her face had deeper lines in it, her hair streaked with white. She looked… _exhausted_ , and sad. And on the verge of tears.

Jensen stood up. “Mom…” Part of him wanted to run over and comfort her, an instinctive reaction to seeing his mother upset, which was followed swiftly by a surge of anger, and then guilt for being angry at a woman who had just nearly lost her husband. His throat felt tight with conflicting emotion, and it was hard to breathe.

Her lips trembled. “Jensen, oh…”

Jared stood up at Jensen’s right side, watching the interaction with one hand on the small of Jensen’s back. Jensen wondered if she’d overheard their conversation with Sherri, half hoping she had and half hoping she hadn’t.

She stepped closer, hand reaching out toward him, but she didn’t come near enough to touch. She looked hopeful but nervous, like she didn’t know what he would accept from her. “It is so good to see you.”

Jensen couldn’t honestly return the sentiment. He nodded instead, and swallowed as he clasped her hand with his, pulling her toward him.

She collapsed forward against his chest, wrapping her arms around him with a little sob. “I have missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Jensen’s breath hitched. Something cracked in his chest, and he had no idea what to do. He had anticipated a lot of things from his mother, but not _this_. He hugged her back awkwardly, limbs stiff as he struggled to get a grip on his own emotions.

She let go and stepped back, giving him space to breathe. Her green eyes glistened, but she wasn’t quite crying.

Jensen reached for Jared’s hand then, feeling a bit more grounded as their fingers laced together. “Um. Mom, this is Jared Padalecki, my husband.” He refused to soften his relationship with Jared for her sensibilities, and he needed to know right away if she was going to have a problem.

She looked over at Jared with a tremulous smile. “Yes, Jared, I heard about your union. Congratulations. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Jensen noticed her use of the word “union,” but didn’t comment on it.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Donna,” Jared said with his polite face on, extending his right hand to her.

She shook it, her hand disappearing in Jared’s. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He gave Jensen’s hand a squeeze. 

She nodded. “Good… that’s good. I’m glad he has someone… who’ll be there for him.”

Jensen somehow managed to not choke. “Yes, well. How is Dad doing?”

Jensen could see the strain in her eyes as they roamed over his face. “He’s better. They’re going to discharge him in the morning. He has a lot of recovery to do, dietary changes we have to make, physical therapy and stress management, but he’s alive. And that’s the most important thing. He’s really looking forward to seeing you, Jensen.”

Alan had said as much to him over the phone, but Jensen still had difficulty accepting it. He recognized the words, but the fact that they applied to him was still not quite registering in his mind. “Should we wait to visit until he’s back home tomorrow? If he’s busy now…”

His mother shook her head. “No, the nurse told him you’re here. He wants to see you, both of you. He asked me to bring you to his room.”

Jensen took a deep breath and gestured toward the door. “Okay then, lead the way.”

Her eyes raked over him once more, and then she inclined her head in the direction of the hall. “Alright. It’s this way.”

She led them down the corridor to Alan’s room. “He’s still very sore and tired. Just so you know what to expect.”

Jared’s grip tightened around Jensen’s hand as they walked, and Jensen leaned into Jared’s body when they reached Alan’s door. It was open, and Donna walked through it, gesturing for them to follow.

Steeling his nerves, Jensen entered his father’s room.

Alan was sitting on the side of the bed, flipping through a magazine. He looked up when they came in, and Jensen was shocked again at how much his parents had aged over the ten years since he’d last seen them. Alan looked gaunt and pale, his once-golden brown hair almost entirely grey. His cheeks were sunken in, and there were deep purple smudges under his eyes. 

“Jensen…” Alan gasped. He stared for what seemed like hours, during which Jensen couldn’t breathe. Then, he tried to stand up.

Donna rushed over to help him. With a pained grunt, Alan was on his feet, and he hobbled over to Jensen with a marked limp, favoring his right leg.

Jensen was trying to figure that out when Alan came right up to him and folded him into a embrace.

“I have missed you so much, Jensen. You have no idea. I am so sorry, and I am so very glad to see you again,” he said, his arms clutching around Jensen with surprising strength.

Jensen was stunned―despite the small part of him that had hoped for a warm welcome, he hadn’t thought he’d actually get it. First his mother, and now his father… Jensen didn’t know how to handle this. His father showed no signs of letting go, and Jensen found himself returning the hug, emotion welling up inside of him.

Alan held him tighter. He smelled of weakness and hospital and antiseptic, but he also smelled like his _father_ , and Jensen was overcome with memories, both good and bad. He screwed up his face into his father’s shoulder, determined to keep himself together.

His father’s breath hitched then, and Alan let out a sob into Jensen’s hair. “I _love_ you, Jensen,” he said. “I am so sorry I didn’t tell you that enough, that I didn’t show it when you needed it. But I want you to know I never stopped loving you. I just had to learn some things to understand that there’s nothing wrong with you being exactly who you are. I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

“Dad…” Jensen was floundering now, struggling to breathe. His father clung to him, arms pulling him in tighter, and Jensen was verging on the edge of bursting into tears or screaming, he didn’t know which. Maybe both. He couldn’t remember the last time his father said he loved him, and Jensen had honestly believed he’d never hear those words again. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d hadn’t imagined it.

Alan finally let him go, and Jensen could see that his father’s face was streaked with tears. Moisture welled up in Jensen’s eyes. He had to get some space, had to breathe. He stepped backward, colliding against Jared’s chest as he took a moment to get a grip on himself.

An intense quiet stretched across the room, broken by deep breaths and Donna blowing her nose.

Jensen cleared his throat once he felt more in control and moved aside so he could pull Jared forward. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Jared Padalecki, my husband.”

Alan’s face brightened into a genuine smile, laugh lines crinkling in his cheeks and around his eyes. “Wow. Jared. I am very glad to meet you.” He held out a hand to shake, and Jensen could detect no hostility or duplicity in his father at all. Alan seemed honestly pleased to see him and Jared. The warmth of his father’s welcome was almost too much for Jensen to handle. Alan had never been that demonstrative, not since before Jensen was ten, anyway.

Jared seemed somewhat disarmed as he shook Alan’s hand. “Thank you. It’s good to meet you, too.”

“Are you okay, Dad?” Jensen gestured toward his father’s leg. “You were limping.”

“Oh, that’s where they cut in to insert the stents. They went up through the femoral artery and put stents in the blocked arteries in my heart. My leg hurts more than my chest does right now.”

Jensen suddenly recalled what Josh had told him the other day, and how Jeff had explained it later when Jared called him for advice. “Dad, why don’t you sit back down?” 

“Only if you sit down with me,” Alan said.

His father was starting to look a little grey in the face, so Jensen nodded. “Alright.”

“Why don’t you lie back down on the bed, Alan?” Donna said. “Let me finish packing your things.”

Alan looked less than pleased with this idea. “I am perfectly capable of packing my own bag.”

“Dad. You look like you’re about ready to fall over. Lie down already so Jared and I don’t have to pick you up off the floor.” Jensen scolded, then blinked, surprised at himself. 

His father looked surprised as well, and then he chortled softly. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can lie back down.”

Jensen gave him a wry grin as he helped his father maneuver onto the bed. “Yes, well.” He had no idea what to say to his father’s attempt at humor, so he focused on getting Alan comfortable. “How’s that? Need the head raised more?”

Alan nodded and reached for the controls on the side of the bed. “I’ve got it.”

Half a minute later, Alan was reclining upright and Jensen sat next to him in the chair. Donna stood on the other side of the bed, putting things into a suitcase and looking pleased. Jared leaned on the counter on the other side of the room that housed a sink, observing them with a slightly amused expression on his face, his shoulders relaxed. Jensen was still feeling a bit bewildered by it all, but decided to just roll with it. He could freak out when he and Jared got to their hotel later.

“So how long are you here?” Alan asked.

“Just a few days. We fly back to LA on Sunday.”

“You have a hotel, right?” his Mom asked.

“Yeah, the Hyatt by Hamilton Park, but we came straight here from the airport.”

“It will take them a little while to get your father checked out, probably. They said they were going to discharge him two hours ago, and then they changed their mind to first thing tomorrow morning. We probably won’t be out of here until noon.”

Jensen huffed out a soft laugh.

“Yeah, my brother likes to joke that hospitals are quick to admit you and glacial to let you go,” Jared said. “They have to dot every I and cross every T and triple check everything.”

“His brother’s a doctor,” Jensen clarified when he saw the question on his father’s face.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Alan replied. “You have any other siblings?”

“Just my older brother Jeff and my younger sister, Megan,” Jared answered.

“Oh, so you’re a middle child like Jensen?” Donna asked.

Jared sent Jensen a soft, private smile. “Yeah.”

There was another measure of silence, only this time it felt awkward. Jensen had no idea what to say, and he looked across the room at his husband. Jared just shrugged.

Jensen reached for something to talk about. He wasn’t going to broach any topic related to his parents rejecting him for being gay, not here at the hospital. He’d had enough emotional turmoil for the afternoon. Eventually he asked, “So, Dad, tell me about your prognosis. Do they expect you to make a full recovery?”

Alan nodded. “I have to start eating like a rabbit now, though,” he grumbled.

“No more fried foods, cutting back on red meat, more fish, more vegetables,” Donna added, looking at her husband sternly.

Alan made a face that was such a great mix of disgust and a pout that Jensen had to stifle a snigger. “Like I said, eat like a rabbit. And I have to take a whole cocktail of medications now, blood thinners and meds for cholesterol and aspirin and vitamins and I don’t know what else. I can’t even fit them all in one hand.”

“And he has to exercise more.” Donna closed the top of the suitcase and zipped it up. “Josh is going to pick up a treadmill for us and set it up in the den. Once he’s healed up enough, we’ll start taking walks together.”

“That’s good, Mom,” Jensen said, amused at the way his mother was being all stern with Alan, who was doing a good impression of a put-upon teenager. This was not a dynamic he was used to seeing between them.

“Good evening, Mister Ackles, is this a bad time?” A woman in a white coat came into the room, clearly a doctor. She looked up at Jared, then over to Jensen and Alan.

“This is my son Jensen and his husband Jared,” Alan said, gesturing over at Jared.

Jensen’s stomach flipped at the casual, easy way Alan made that introduction. No hint of discomfort or disapproval, just sheer joy at their presence. It was such an opposite reaction from the last time he’d seen his father that Jensen didn’t know how to begin to make sense of it.

“This is my cardiologist, Doctor Juarez,” Alan continued. “She’s the one who fixed me up.”

Jensen nodded in greeting. The doctor simply acknowledged him with a tilt of her head and continued speaking to Alan.

“I have the results of your latest tests here, and we have some things to go over before you can leave tomorrow morning.” Dr. Juarez moved to Alan’s side, pulling her stethoscope out and propping the ends in her ears as she placed the sensor on Alan’s chest.

“Jensen, this is probably going to take a while,” Donna interjected, placing one hand on Jensen’s arm. “And then he’s going to pick at his dinner and probably fall asleep early. You can go get settled in at your hotel; I’m sure you’re tired after your flight.”

“We’re going over to Josh’s for dinner with them and Mac, actually,” Jensen replied, half-wishing they could just crash at their hotel.

His mother beamed. “Oh, that’s wonderful. They’ll be very glad to see you.”

“Do you need help getting him home tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “No, we’re good. He can walk short distances, and Josh is coming over to help. You’ve had a long day already, and I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than we already have. I know this is… difficult for you. Why don’t you come over tomorrow after lunch? I’m sure we’ll be home by then, and we can talk more. Your father and I both have so much we want to say to you.”

Jensen considered that. He did need some time to… think about all of this. He stood up. “Alright. You have my cell if you need us.”

Alan reached out for Jensen’s hand, ignoring his doctor for a moment. “Thank you for coming, Jensen.”

“Of course, Dad,” Jensen said, but Alan cut him off.

“No, thank you for giving me, _us_ a chance to apologize. Thank you for giving us a second chance.”

Jensen didn’t quite know what to say to that and finally just nodded. He wasn’t ready to forgive his parents yet. His mother hadn’t even said anything remotely resembling an apology. But the affection and sincerity of their greeting was quite disarming, and Jensen knew he was thawing. “You’re welcome. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Alan bobbed his head eagerly, shaking Jensen’s hand. “Yes, tomorrow.”

Jensen exhaled what felt like his entire life’s breath when they got into the corridor. “Holy shit. Did that _actually_ just happen?”

Jared was right beside him, shoulders brushing. “Yeah. You alright?”

Jensen shrugged. “I have no idea. Let’s get out of here.” Jensen moved dazedly down the hall toward the elevators. He had a thousand-piece puzzle with no reference picture, and he had no idea how to start fitting the pieces together. A beer with his brother and sister was a good way to start—start putting everything into some sort of perspective. Plus, seeing them would help him be able to… decompress.

Jared’s hand rested on the small of his back all the way out to the car.

  


The moment Josh opened the front door, Jensen could tell he’d been under stress for some not insubstantial period. His brother was sporting a bit of grey at his temples that hadn’t been there the last time Jensen had seen him, and his eyes were a bit bloodshot, blue bags sagging beneath them. Yet his face lit up when he saw Jensen and Jared standing on his front step.

“Jensen! Man, it is good to see you!” Josh grabbed him in a hug and physically dragged him through the front door.

Jensen beamed, squeezing him back. It had been far too long since he’d seen him. “Hey, Josh.” After the awkward visit with his parents at the hospital, being here with his brother lifted a weight off his shoulders. He just wanted to spend some time with his siblings and not think about their parents for a little while.

Jensen stepped into the foyer and shrugged off his jacket while Josh and Jared went through their own greeting ritual. Once they were all in the house, Josh hung up their jackets in the hall closet on the hooks next to his empty gun holster and detective badge.

“Hey, Jensen, Jared!” came a woman’s voice to his left.

Jensen turned and broke into a wide grin. “Hi, Stephanie!” His sister-in-law was smiling brightly, her cinnamon eyes sparkling, light brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. She was wearing jeans and a soft-looking purple turtleneck and had a six-month-old infant on her hip.

“Oh my god, is this Claire?” Jared gushed, brushing past Jensen to give Stephanie a hug and coo at Claire.

Stephanie grinned. “Yes, this is our Claire. I just fed her, so she’s bright and happy and wants to play.”

Claire stared up at Jared with big blue eyes and reached out to grab at the buttons on his shirt with a little giggle.

“Can I?” Jared asked holding his hands up to take Claire in his arms.

Stephanie nodded. “Sure. She’s good with new people. Plus, you’re someone new to play with, which means I can finish dinner. She’s teething, though, so she’ll drool all over you.”

“Nothing wrong with baby drool.” Jared scooped Claire up and nuzzled her cheeks. “Look at how big you are!”

Claire seemed to think Jared was the funniest thing she’d ever seen, from the way she gurgled at him.

Jensen couldn’t help the smile that burst onto his face at how adorable Jared was with the baby. This happened all the time when they were with Jared’s family and Jared played with his niece, Quinn.

Jensen took the opportunity to give Stephanie a hug. He’d always liked her and the way her no-nonsense practicality complemented his brother’s more ambitious nature.

“Kyle, guess who’s here?” Josh called.

Jensen moved from the entryway into the living room, and saw his sister Mackenzie sprawled across the floor with Kyle, her long blonde hair twisted into a braid, eye-searing neon-orange and hot pink checkered socks on her feet. The two of them were deeply engrossed in constructing an impressive castle out of Legos. It didn’t look like any castle Jensen had seen on the outside of a Lego box, and Jensen was impressed.

“Who?” Kyle asked without looking up.

Jensen snorted. “Your favorite uncle, that’s who.”

Mac and Kyle both looked up at the sound of his voice.

“Jensen!” Mac’s face lit up like a firework.

“Uncle Jared!” Kyle shouted, scrambling to his feet. He bolted across the room and tackled Jared’s legs, bypassing Jensen completely.

Jared chuckled and gave Kyle half a hug, Claire in his other arm. “Hey, Kyle!”

Jensen picked Kyle up and threw him over his shoulder upside down. “What about me, huh?” He blew a raspberry on Kyle’s stomach. “Did you forget about me?”

Kyle flailed and squealed, laughing hysterically as Jensen tickled his ribs. “Uncle Jensen! Uncle Jeeeen!”

Jensen put Kyle down, then squatted to give him a proper hug. “So glad to see you, little man.”

“Come see what me and Aunt Mac built, Uncle Jensen!” He pulled on Jensen’s arm, dragging him into the living room.

Mac met him halfway in the room, jumping at him much the same way as Kyle had launched himself at Jared. “Jeeenseeeen!”

“Maaaaac!” Jensen mimicked as he held her tight. Jesus, she looked older every time he saw her, and it had only been a month since she’d been with them in Chicago for the interview. Somehow he kept expecting to see her in cut-off jean shorts and pigtails. But she was an adult now, in grad school at UT Dallas no less.

“Hey Kyle, you better tell Aunt Mac to let go if you want me to see your castle,” Jensen teased. “I’m trapped—she’s like an octopus!”

Mac sniggered and smacked his shoulder.

Kyle giggled. “Let go, Aunt Mac! You gotta show him the bridge you made.”

“Oh, alright.” Mac huffed and stepped away, a twinkle in her green eyes. “It is an awesome bridge.”

Stephanie came into the room. “Kyle, it’s time for dinner. Go wash your hands.”

“But Moooom, I’m showing Uncle Jensen my castle!”

“You can show him after dinner. Go wash up.” Her voice brooked no argument.

Kyle looked defiant for all of two seconds before he slumped, muttered, “oh, fine,” and stomped down the hall toward the bathroom.

Jensen pressed his lips together, biting back a laugh as Stephanie glared at her son for being mouthy.

“He always hates to stop whatever fun he’s having, but as soon as he’s at the table, he remembers how hungry he is,” Josh said.

Stephanie nodded and turned around, eyeballing Jared and Jensen both. “I hope I cooked enough; I threw in three extra chicken breasts.”

Jared gave her a wolfish grin over Claire’s shoulder. “Just enough for me, awesome!”

“Bottomless pit, my husband is. It will be fine, I’m sure.”

They followed Stephanie into the dining area adjacent to the open kitchen, and Jensen decided to wash his hands as well. After being on an airplane and in a hospital, it was probably a good idea.

They dished up plates of chicken scampi, linguini, and roasted asparagus, then piled around the dining room table. Stephanie took Claire from Jared so he could eat, then sat with her on her left leg so she could eat with her right. She put a small plate with some plain noodles and asparagus on it in front of Claire, which the baby promptly started playing with.

“So, how was your trip?” she asked.

“It was fine.” Jensen hadn’t been able to sleep at all during the flight, too keyed up over seeing his parents for the first time in ten years, but it could have been worse.

“Sardines, man,” Jared replied. “I am not built for coach.”

“It will be even worse on the flight back—we weren’t able to swing exit row seats,” Jensen commiserated.

Josh grinned at them. “Sometimes I hate that you got taller than me, Jensen. Other times, I really don’t envy you at all.”

Jensen smirked. “It’s usually an advantage—”

“Except on planes,” Jared grumbled.

“Ha, true. Except on planes. I’m just glad I beat you at something.”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t competed with you since high school, you know.”

Jensen acknowledged that with a quirk of his lips.

“So, catch us up with all of you,” Jared interjected, steering the subject away from deeper sibling issues. He must have known Jensen wasn’t up to more emotional conversation, and Jensen could have kissed him. “I swear, Kyle, you’ve grown a foot since I saw you last. What grade are you in now? Sixth?”

Kyle laughed around a mouthful of noodles, then blurted without swallowing, “No, Uncle Jay, I’m in third grade!”

“No way!”

“Kyle, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Stephanie chided.

Kyle gulped his food down.

“What’s your favorite subject?” Jensen asked.

“Math. And recess.”

Jensen stifled a snort. _Recess_. Kyle was definitely Josh’s kid.

“Kyle is top of his class in math,” Stephanie said. “He’s at a fifth grade level.”

“Oh, you know your times tables then?” Jared asked. “What’s four times seven? Thirty-nine?”

Kyle cackled again. “No! It’s twenty-eight! Eight times five?”

Jared gave Kyle another wrong answer, and Kyle gleefully corrected him. “Mac, tell him! You’re good at math!”

Mackenzie joined in the math quiz with delight.

With Jared and Mac keeping Kyle occupied, Jensen took the opportunity to talk to his brother. “So, how’ve you been, Josh?”

Josh swallowed the mouthful he was chewing. “Busy, stressed. There are a lot of cases on my desk right now, and not enough leads to solve them all. We’ve had a slew of homicides, and it’s keeping everyone working overtime.”

“You said you were in court the other day. Did that go well?”

Josh nodded. “Yeah. The usual. Gave my testimony about the evidence we collected and our interviews with the perp, then the defense tried to poke holes in it.” He shrugged. “Probably won’t have a verdict until next week.”

“Do you think they’ll convict him?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, the case against him is pretty solid.”

“Good.”

“Dad catches bad guys,” Kyle interjected, scooping up his pasta. “He’s like Batman.”

Josh gave his son a dopey smile. “Don’t know about Batman, but yeah.”

Kyle looked up at his father with hero-worship and sauce all over his face, his mouth stuffed full of noodles.

Josh chuckled at Kyle’s face. “Use your napkin, Kyle. And try to get your food in your mouth, alright?”

“How are things with you, Steph? You still at Children’s Medical?” Jensen asked while Kyle made a show of scrubbing his face with his napkin.

She shifted Claire over to her other leg. Claire seemed more interested in playing with the food on her mother’s plate than her own, and Stephanie had to distract her just to eat. “Yeah. I’m on a night shift right now, so I’ll have to leave to go to work in a couple of hours. But it’s great. I love working with kids, helping them get well.”

“It means Steph and I only see each other in passing most of the time, but we always manage dinner together,” Josh added. “I’ll be glad when she’s back on daytime shifts in a couple weeks.”

“Me, too! I never feel properly rested at all.”

“You have the kids in daycare?” Jared asked.

Stephanie nodded. “Yeah, Claire while I’m sleeping, and Kyle just for the few hours between school and Josh coming home, although sometimes Mac picks him up in the afternoon.”

Mac smiled. “Yeah, Kyle and I do our math homework together, don’t we?”

Kyle bobbed his head excitedly. “Mac’s awesome at math. And she helps me with spelling, too. I hate spelling.”

“It’s just on Thursdays, when I don’t have an afternoon class. But I help with the kids when I can.”

“Tell them about IBM, Mac,” Steph suggested.

Mackenzie turned bright red and her face broke into an enormous grin.

“What about IBM?” Jensen was curious and hopeful.

“They’re already trying to recruit me,” Mac said. “I’m only halfway done with my Master’s, and they’re trying to head-hunt me.” She looked so proud of herself.

“Are you kidding me?” Jensen blurted out. “Mac, that’s _amazing_!” He gave her a high five over the table.

“What’s your specific program again?” Jared asked.

“Computer engineering. It’s a combination of electrical engineering and computer science. IBM is offering to help me pay to take it through to my Doctorate if I agree to come work for them when I’m done.”

“Wow, that’s awesome!”

Jensen got out of his chair to give his baby sister a hug. “Crap, Mac. I’m so friggin’ proud of you.”

She just beamed at him and hugged him back, bouncing in his arms. “Can’t let you be the only Doctor in the family,” she teased.

  


After dinner was cleared up, everyone relocated to the living room to talk. Jensen and Jared sprawled on opposite ends of the sofa, Steph and Josh settled into the love seat, and Mac and Kyle clambered down onto the floor again, working on the Lego castle, which Kyle had spent ten minutes excitedly showing off to his uncles. Jensen took his turn to hold Claire, who kept trying to grab his nose and giggled when Jensen nuzzled her neck with it.

“So, you and Jared went to the hospital earlier?” Josh asked. “How did the visit go?”

It seemed to Jensen that everyone had mutually agreed to not talk about Donna and Alan during dinner, like they’d all known he’d needed some time to decompress. Jensen appreciated being able to relax and just hang with his family, the family he _knew_ loved and accepted him. But now that supper was over, so was his brief respite.

“Better than I expected, honestly,” Jensen said. “I still can’t quite believe it. Dad apologized. And even though I knew he was going to—he’d told me as much on the phone—I am still having a hard time processing it.”

Josh shrugged a shoulder in sympathy. “That’s totally understandable. It’s a big deal. What about Mom? What did she do?”

Jensen looked into Claire’s bright blue eyes and tried not to grimace as she gnawed on his finger. She had a couple of teeth coming in the front, and they were kind of sharp.

“Well, first she hugged me, said she was glad to see me and happy to meet Jared, and then she acted like nothing had happened. She didn’t apologize, though.”

“She was polite,” Jared added. “And she seemed sincere.”

“Well, she would be,” Mac said from the floor, still working on the Lego castle with Kyle. “Never one to make a scene in public, Mom. But I know she is going to apologize to you. She and I have talked about it a lot. You’re going over to their house tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, they invited us over after lunch.” Jensen took the teething ring Stephanie handed him and extracted his finger from Claire’s mouth. “To talk.”

“Would it help if I came with you?” Josh asked.

Jensen looked at his brother gratefully. “Can you?” It would be very helpful, actually, to have a buffer between him and his parents, someone on his side to help mediate.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Can I go over to Grandma and Grandpa’s with you tomorrow, Dad?” Kyle asked.

“Not this time, bud. Grandma and Grandpa have some things they need to talk with Uncle Jensen about. Grown up stuff.”

Kyle gave his father a cross look. “How come they’re gonna apologize to you, Uncle Jen? What did they do that they need to apologize for?”

Stephanie and Josh both looked at Jensen with slightly panicked eyes, asking silently if he wanted to be rescued. Jensen shook his head no.

“Well, Kyle, you know how I’m married to your Uncle Jared? And how that means that I’m gay? You know what it means to be gay, right?”

Kyle’s head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, Mom and Dad and I have talked about it a lot. It means you like boys instead of girls. This boy in my class, Ryan Jackson, he has two moms. So his moms are gay, right, because they love each other?”

Jensen was tempted to hug his nephew and then Kyle’s parents for raising such a sensible kid. “Yes, exactly. I knew I was gay back when I was a teenager. But your Grandma and Grandpa got really upset when they found out. They said some very mean things and tried to make me like girls instead.”

“But that’s stupid.” Kyle frowned.

“Your Grandma and Grandpa aren’t bad people, Kyle,” Jared said, to which everyone loudly agreed. “We don’t want you to be mad at them, alright? They just had some wrong ideas back then. They’ve learned better now, and they know they hurt Uncle Jensen’s feelings pretty bad, so they want to apologize to him so they can make up.”

Kyle considered that, then nodded. “Good. They should apologize. I won’t be mad at them if they apologize to you, Uncle Jensen.”

Jensen’s lips quirked as he shared a glance with Jared. “That’s why we’re going over to talk to them tomorrow. So you don’t need to be mad at them. Your Grandma and Grandpa love you very much, don’t you forget.”

“I won’t.” Kyle grinned and started playing with his Legos again.

Jensen took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Was that alright?”

Josh seemed pleased with Kyle’s reaction. “Yeah, that was good.” He shifted in his chair, and then resumed their earlier conversation. “So, I’m going to help get Dad home from the hospital tomorrow morning, and I’ll just hang out at their place afterwards, so I’ll be there whenever you show up. I think they’ll be glad to have me there, too, to be honest.”

Jensen tipped his head in acknowledgment, again feeling relieved.

Stephanie came up and took Claire from him. “It’s time to get her ready for bed, so I can get ready to go to work.”

“Alright, thanks for letting me hold her.” Jensen gave Claire one last smooch on the cheek.

Jared made grabby hands toward Stephanie. “I gotta have goodnight kisses, too!”

Stephanie chuckled and walked over so Jared could kiss all over Claire’s face.

“Say goodnight, Clarie-bell,” she cooed, waving Claire’s little baby fist.

Once Stephanie and Claire were gone, Josh asked, “Feel like a beer, Jensen? Jared?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Jensen answered.

“I’m good,” Jared said. “I’ll drive, so no alcohol for me.”

“I’ll have one.” Mac climbed up off the floor.

Josh fetched the beer from the kitchen and came back into the living room with an armful of bottles that he set on the coffee table. “Kyle, it’s getting close to your bedtime. Time to put your Legos away.”

“But Dad! My castle!” Kyle protested.

Josh put his hands on his hips, eyed the elaborate castle, and sighed, clearly not up for a battle. “Alright. You can work on it more tomorrow, but you’re done with it tonight. Put all the extra Legos into the bucket. No loose blocks on the floor. Or we’ll take the castle down. Deal?”

“Deal!” He started picking up all the remaining pieces and put them in a big plastic tub.

“Want some help?” Jared asked, clambering down on the floor next to Kyle.

Kyle beamed. “Yeah, thanks!”

Jensen took the break in the conversation to make a pit stop in the bathroom, and when he came back into the living room, Josh was directing the last of the clean up while Jared and Mackenzie carried buckets of toys into Kyle’s bedroom.

“Alright, good job picking up, Kyle. Now go brush your teeth and put your jammies on,” Josh said.

Jensen held out his hand to snag Kyle before he went. “No going to bed without giving me goodnight hugs first, buddy.”

Kyle jumped into his arms. “‘Course, Uncle Jen!”

Jensen kissed him on the top of his head. “Alright.”

Kyle ran out of the room and through the hall.

“He’s so big, Josh. I can’t believe it.”

Josh handed him a beer. “You’re telling me. It was just yesterday and he was smaller than Claire. Now he’s in third grade and grilling Jared on his multiplication tables.”

“He’s an amazing kid. You done good.”

Josh grinned and saluted Jensen with his beer. “That I did.”

Jared and Mac walked back into the living room, Mac grabbing a beer from Josh. Jared sat down next to Jensen on the sofa, and Jensen immediately put his hand on Jared’s thigh.

“So, tomorrow,” Jensen started, and the mood in the room sobered.

“I meant what I said on the phone the other day, Jensen,” Josh said. “I’m one hundred percent on your side in this. I wouldn’t have asked you to come back if I wasn’t certain Mom and Dad really wanted to apologize and make things up to you. What I really want is to heal the rift in our family. And I’m so glad you’re giving that a shot.”

“Mom and Dad honestly want to mend bridges with you, Jensen,” Mackenzie added. “They screwed up big time, and they know it. And not only that, they know _why_ they screwed up, and they know why they were wrong. I don’t think anyone of us will blame you if you don’t want to accept their apology, not after what they did to you. We just hope you’ll give them a chance. I want my family all back together, and that means you and Mom and Dad need to talk this all out.”

Jared pulled Jensen’s hand into his lap and laced their fingers together, and Jensen took a large swallow of his beer, grateful for Jared’s solid presence at his side. “Well, I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t willing to give them a chance. I mean, I would have come to see you guys, was planning on doing that soon anyway so we could see Claire, but I wouldn’t have gone to visit Mom and Dad at the hospital, and I wouldn’t have agreed to go to their house tomorrow if I weren’t ready to listen. So, yeah. But they have a lot to make up for.”

“I know, and they know it too,” Josh said. “I’ll be there with you tomorrow as back up, or mediator, or whatever you need. I’ll let Mom and Dad know I’m going to be there when I see them in the morning.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Mom wants to have everyone over for dinner on Saturday evening,” Mac said. “Get everyone together once before you and Jared go back home. Do you think you guys’ll be up for that?”

Jared glanced at Jensen, then turned toward Mac. “It really depends on how things go tomorrow, I suppose, and how Jensen feels about it all. But if it all goes well, then yeah, that would be alright with me.”

Jensen pointed at his husband and leaned closer into his side. “What he said.”

Mackenzie smiled at them. “Alright then. And no matter how things turn out tomorrow, I’m just glad you’re here, Jensen. Thank you for giving them a chance, at least.”

Jensen tipped his beer toward her. “Don’t ever say I don’t do anything for you,” he joked.

“So, enough of the hard shit,” Josh said. “We’ll have plenty of that tomorrow. It’s been too long since we were just able to sit back and shoot the shit together. How are things, O famous daytime talk show star?”

Jensen laughed, feeling himself relax again, and settled in to an evening of just hanging out with Jared and his brother and sister.

  



	5. Four

  


Friday, October 27, 2006

Sitting on the sofa in his parents’ living room, Jensen was overcome with memories. The many number of times he’d wrestled with Josh until his mother kicked them out to the back yard. The time they held an epic battle of socks, Jensen and Alan on one side of the living room, Josh and Mac on the other, furiously hurling laundry at each other and laughing hysterically until their mother came in and ordered them to clean it up, a smile creeping onto her face even as she was the disciplinarian. They’d all had to refold the laundry as punishment.

He also remembered his parents sitting there with the Pastor, thunderous looks on their faces as they told him he was going to hell if he didn’t repent of his sinful, perverted lifestyle choice by going to conversion camp, Jensen’s stash of gay porn magazines in a box on the coffee table, irrefutable proof of his homosexuality on display for anyone to see if they came in the house.

Jensen had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in his life, and the subsequent arguments had been brutal, cruel even. He could still feel the way the walls shuddered as he slammed the door behind him when he left with Chris, his parents’ shouts echoing in his ears and Chris muttering about them being bigoted assholes while Jensen forced himself not to cry.

The house looked the same as Jensen remembered it, and completely different at the same time. Jensen fought back the flashes of memories and tried to focus on the changes instead. New carpet, new furniture, new kitchen… same painting here, a new one there. The same photos on the wall, with some new additions.

Jensen’s eye caught on a picture of himself and Jared at their partnership ceremony. Stunned, he felt like he’d tripped over an unexpected step. He hadn’t given his parents that photo, so it must have been Josh or Mac. It was displayed in the middle of all of the other family photos, next to a wedding picture of Josh and Stephanie, and Jensen couldn’t breathe.

Tearing his eyes away from the pictures, Jensen distracted himself by watching the steam rising from the mugs on the coffee table and feeling the warmth emanating from Jared’s hand on his thigh. Jensen nudged his husband and gestured toward the picture, and Jared responded with a quirk of a dimple. He could almost hear Jared’s voice saying, “See? They aren’t ashamed of you anymore, Jensen.”

Jensen gave a noncommittal hum, shrugging his shoulders. As far as Jensen was concerned, it was nice, and Jared was probably right, but a picture on the wall didn’t fix or erase what had happened in this house ten years ago.

“Do you take sugar in your coffee, Jared?” Donna asked, setting down a tray with creamer and sugar and interrupting Jensen and Jared’s silent conversation.

“Yes, thank you.” Jared dropped two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee, followed by a large dollop of cream. He then poured a little cream into Jensen’s coffee, no sugar, stirring it and handing it to him.

Alan watched them from his leather recliner with a fond smile. He seemed comfortable in his cable-knit sweater, a thin blanket over his legs. He looked tired, but there was more color to his face now.

Josh was there, too, sitting on the love seat next to Donna. Their conversation the previous night had helped Jensen put a lot of his feelings into perspective. He was going to do his best to just sit back and listen to what his parents had to say. It was okay for him to be feeling out of his depth right now, so his plan was to hear his parents out and then figure out what he was going to do after he’d marinated in his thoughts for a while.

He took a sip of his coffee, feeling the heat of the mug seep into his hand, and sat back on the sofa, shoulder pressed against Jared.

His mother put her tea down on a coaster and twined her fingers together in her lap. “Well, I’m not sure I know where to even start this conversation.”

“I’m here, Mom, and I’m willing to listen,” Jensen said.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s more than I ever expected, to be honest, and I’m grateful just to have this chance.” She looked over at Alan, eyes pleading.

Jensen clenched his jaw and told himself that her contrite tone meant that she wasn’t complaining that he’d finally got around to giving them a chance. He reminded himself to not jump to conclusions before they’d had a chance to explain. He could do this.

“Just start at the beginning, hon,” Alan said.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, well. I guess I’ll come right out and apologize. What your father said yesterday, Jensen…” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat again. “He was speaking for me, too. I’m so sorry about everything I said and did when I found out you were gay. I handled myself… I handled myself very badly, and I treated you very poorly―no mother should do what I did to you, and I can’t begin to make it up to you now. I just want you to know up front that I love you, and that I never stopped loving you. But I did a very poor job of showing it.”

Jensen’s throat ached. He didn’t know what to say to that—actually he had far too many words to say to that—so he just gestured for her to continue.

“I just didn’t understand. I think I do now. I… We’ve been trying to figure out how to get in touch with you for a while now. I mean, how do you approach the son you rejected and tell him you want to apologize?” She heaved a breath and wiped at her eyes. “Josh and Mac refused to give me your contact information—can’t say I blame them—and I stopped asking for it a while ago.”

Jensen understood what she was saying, but there was a part of him that was furious and hurt that she’d give up on him again, that she’d waited this long, that it was Alan’s heart attack that prompted her to reestablish contact. Didn’t he deserve them contacting him solely because they wanted to apologize? Wasn’t this, wasn’t _he_ important enough to warrant a call completely on his own? Not because there was an emergency, and “oh, by the way, we might as well make things up to Jensen while he’s here.”

Josh looked at Jensen. “I would have given her your number for this, though,” he said, gesturing toward Alan. “I just wasn’t able to answer my phone when she was trying to call you about Dad’s heart attack.”

Jensen swallowed down bitterness lodged in his throat. He was being uncharitable; he knew it, and even though he couldn’t really help it, he could try to minimize it. Glancing back at his mother, he asked, “How long?” How long had his parents felt this way?

“Years,” Alan said at the same time as Donna said, “Since last year.”

Everyone gave a nervous chuckle.

“Well, let me clarify,” his dad said. “We’ve missed you and wanted to reconcile with you since you left, Jensen. But it’s only been in the last couple of years that your mother and I realized _we_ were the ones who needed to change, not you.”

His mother nodded in agreement, her face red with embarrassment. “Yes, that’s a fair way to put it.”

“Why the change of heart?” That was the key question―why, after so many years, had they changed their minds? And why, if they missed him so much, didn’t they try to get in touch with him sooner? Anger swirled in his gut.

Donna looked down into her cup. “It was… a process.”

“A journey,” Alan added. “We each had to go through it.”

“I guess it started when we got a new Pastor at our church,” his mother said. “Pastor Garrett retired and moved to Florida, and the new Pastor, Gregory Ainsworth… Pastor Garrett preached against homosexuals frequently, but Pastor Ainsworth never mentioned it once. Then one day, we were talking to him, and he asked about our kids. He knew from Pastor Garrett that you were a part of our family, and when we didn’t talk about you, he asked.

“But he wasn’t bothered by you being gay,” she continued. “Pastor Garrett had always said homosexuals would go to Hell, and we believed him.”

Jensen’s his voice felt like shards of glass as he said, “Oh, I know you believed him. You never even once thought he might be wrong, did you?” He’d heard all of the religious attacks from his parents more than enough for one lifetime, and just thinking of it now infuriated him. They’d accepted Pastor Garrett’s admonitions without question, without once even considering siding with him—in the choice between their son and their religion, they’d chosen religion. His hands curled into fists; Jensen glared at his brother.

“Mom,” Josh said, his tone reminding. “That’s not how you feel anymore, right? That’s what you told me.”

Donna rushed to reassure him. “Oh, yes! We don’t think that anymore! Please believe me, Jensen. I’m just trying to explain the journey. We did believe that, _before_. But we were truly scared for your soul. I didn’t realize how that would sound to you. I love you and I was so distraught at the thought of you going to hell that I tried to force you back onto the right path. Or what I thought was the right path.”

Jensen cut in. “Yes, well, if you loved me _so_ much, why did you kick me out?”

His mother looked like he’d slapped her. “We thought a little tough love would convince you to change.”

“I actually believed that if we gave you that ultimatum, you’d change rather than leave,” his father said. “I didn’t really want you to go; I just didn’t know how else to get you to choose to be normal.”

“I. Am. Normal,” Jensen gritted out, his jaw muscles flexing. His legs tensed as he prepared to stand up, needing to breathe, to escape, to stomp out the front door and suck in a cold shock of air.

“Jensen, they know that,” Josh jumped in.

Jared placed a hand on his thigh to try to calm him.

Donna and Alan both looked desperate. “Jensen, please. We know that you’re normal and fine just the way you are. We know that _now_. This is just how we felt back _then_.”

“Please let us explain, son,” Alan added.

“I already know how you felt back then,” Jensen spat, enraged that she would trivialize it so. “Just” how they felt back then, indeed. They had no fucking _idea_ how deeply they had wounded him with “just” how they felt back then. “You made sure that I heard everything you had to say about my ‘choice’ to be a depraved, perverted sinner. I don’t need to hear it again.”

“Jensen.” Jared’s voice was a reprimand and support all at once.

Donna gave a small sob and wiped at her eyes. Alan looked like Jensen had hit him, and Jensen suddenly felt awful that he’d done that to him so soon after a heart attack. Then there was another surge of anger that he should have to worry about their feelings when they hadn’t cared about his. But they were trying now, and he had promised himself and Jared that he’d at least hear them out. Sighing, Jensen sagged back into Jared’s side.

“Look, I know this is hard, Jensen.” Josh tipped forward, elbows on his knees. “And you know I’m on your side, always have been. But you’ve gotta give them a chance to tell their side of it. They were wrong back then, but they know that and they’re trying to make it right now.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jensen said. “It’s just…” He looked at his mother, then his father. “You don’t know how much it… hurt.” _Devastating_ was a better word, actually, but he wasn’t willing to let them see that part of him. “I know I said I’d listen, and I’m trying, I really am. It’s just difficult.”

Donna’s hands shook as she took a sip of her tea, the porcelain clattering when she set it back down on the coffee table. “You don’t have to apologize, Jensen. We’re the ones apologizing to you.” Her voice wavered, but she seemed to have a better grip on herself.

“I’m sorry, we’re both so sorry,” Alan said, wiping at his eyes.

Jensen felt another stab of guilt that his father was crying. He nodded and busied himself with stirring his coffee, even though it was already well-stirred.

“So can we continue, with the disclaimer that all mentions of past thoughts and feelings are not current thoughts and feelings?” Josh asked.

Jensen swallowed a gulp of his coffee, focusing on the heat and bitterness as he let his anger go. Jared squeezed his thigh reassuringly, and Jensen felt grounded again. He glanced sideways at Jared, lips upturned to tell his husband he was alright. “Yeah, okay.”

“So, you were talking about meeting Pastor Ainsworth,” Josh reminded his parents.

“Yes. Pastor Ainsworth said that you weren’t going to Hell,” Alan said. “He had a very different perspective on it than Pastor Garrett.”

“You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that,” his mother continued. “We spent a lot of time talking with him about it. And he put us in contact with Reverend Delaney at the Unitarian Universalist church in Dallas.”

Jensen blinked. The Unitarians were openly accepting of gays, and they had a very different approach to the Bible than his parents’ church. He would have never expected his mother, who was very literal with the Bible, to ever take up with the Unitarians and their liberal perspective of religion.

“In the middle of all of this, Mackenzie was waging a war on us,” Alan interjected, a soft, proud smile on his face.

“A war?” Jensen was surprised again at the non-sequitur. He didn’t recall Mac ever talking about anything like that.

His mother snickered. “Yes. Your sister never stopped taking your side. She started bringing home brochures and leaflets of information from the PFLAG group at her college. Stuff about accepting your gay family member. She even tricked me into coming to a PFLAG meeting.”

Jensen let out a shocked laugh, and beside him he felt Jared shake, amused. He’d have to give Mac a huge hug for that. She’d always been on his side, but he didn’t know she’d been quite so dedicated to his cause, so to speak.

Donna gave him a wry smile. “She did. I was visiting her at school, and she told me she wanted me to meet a group of her friends. Turned out it was a PFLAG meeting.”

Jensen snorted, imagining his mother awkward and uncomfortable in a room full of people supportive of their gay family members.

“Yes, quite,” Donna replied, responding to Jensen’s reaction. “It was very… discomfiting at first. But Mac wouldn’t let me leave, and the meeting ended up being… Well, it was eye-opening, to say the least. And… enlightening. There were other parents there… people who were coming to terms with their gay kids and their religion. They were very helpful. Afterwards, I started going to meetings of the Dallas chapter of PFLAG. It took me a while to work through my issues, but… That group, combined with Pastor Ainsworth and Reverend Delaney, they helped me realize that it isn’t a choice or a behavior, it’s who you are, and God made you that way. It was wrong―it was un-Christ-like of me to treat you so poorly.”

Jensen’s heart stumbled, thudded hard in his chest. As much as he wanted to hear this from his mother, he’d never believed he actually would. He cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. Jared’s hand squeezed his knee. Jensen clasped it, lacing their fingers together.

“Your book helped, too,” Alan said.

Jensen’s eyes jerked up to his father, then over to his mother, who was blushing.

“Oh yes, I forgot to mention that,” she said.

“My book? What about my book?”

Donna took a sip of her tea and set it back on the coffee table. “Well, I’ve been a fan of Oprah’s Book Club for years, you know.”

Jensen shook his head. No, he did not know that. He’d always figured that Oprah was too… liberal for his parents. That’s why he’d felt safe with agreeing to let her feature his book.

Donna gave a small frown. “Oh, well, I guess you wouldn’t know that. But it’s true. I don’t watch her show all that often, but I do always check out the books she puts in her Book Club, even if I don’t read them all. I saw a rerun of the first show where she talked about ‘Growing the Husband Tree’ by Jesse Eastland. It was right in the middle of the time when I was talking with Reverend Delaney and after I’d been to the PFLAG meeting. It seemed to be the right book at the right time to learn more about the gay community.”

Jared’s fingers squeezed his. Jensen glanced over at his husband, saw the gleam in his hazel eyes, and knew exactly what Jared was thinking. Yes, that book had been the right book at the right time for them, too. It brought them together for the first time in real life and helped them make their dream life together real.

He looked back at his mother, eyebrow raised. “So… you’re saying you read my book about gay boys who fall in love and have gay sex.”

She didn’t even bat an eye. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Jensen ignored the smug look that Josh shot at him. Instead he leaned forward, one elbow on his knee. “Seriously?” He directed the question at his father as well. His insides squirmed and his face heated up at the thought of them reading sex scenes he’d written. _Gay_ sex scenes. _Jesus_. This was not actually happening, was it?

“Yes, I read it too, just this week, actually. While I was in the hospital, between all their poking and prodding,” his father said. “I’d been planning on reading it for a while, but that gave me the time, and your mom insisted. I just skipped the sex scenes.”

“I didn’t know it was your book when I read it the first time,” Donna said. “But I loved it, Jensen. Reading that book was a journey in itself. It was so… _hard_ to read. It hurt me to see things from your perspective―because I felt so strongly while I was reading it that it was your perspective, or a perspective close to yours, I thought―but that book did so much to help me accept you as gay and to be okay with it. To realize there was nothing wrong with you being gay. And to realize just how horrible we were to you. I didn’t find out that you were the author until your interview last month.” At that, she scowled at her husband.

Jensen looked at his father, who had a sheepish expression on his face. “I knew it was your book, but I didn’t tell your mother.”

Jensen was baffled. “What?”

Donna continued to glare at Alan, and Jensen could see a silent conversation between them.

“Mac let it slip accidentally,” Alan explained. “At the time, I was still trying to figure out how to ‘fix’ you straight again.” He made finger quotations in the air. “I had an argument with your sister, and in the middle of the fight, she told me that I should be proud of you for writing an award-winning book, even though you had to do it under a pen name so we wouldn’t know about it. I was too stunned and ashamed that my son wrote a ‘queer’ book, and I didn’t want your mother to feel the same way. So I didn’t tell her, and I put it out of my mind. I didn’t realize it was the same book she’d read until I saw the interview.”

“Yes, well, that’s another story.” Donna shot daggers at Alan one more time, and Jensen suspected she was still angry with her husband. He imagined it had spawned a pretty epic argument, from the looks on his parents’ faces.

“I saw a commercial that said Oprah would be interviewing the author of ‘Growing the Husband Tree,’ and I was so excited,” his mother said. “I was really looking forward to seeing the author of the book that affected me so strongly, so I recorded the show. I’m glad I did, actually, because it meant I could show it to your father later. But when you walked out onto that stage, Jensen, I was _floored_. I literally couldn’t believe it.”

Jensen felt a spike of… amusement? Embarrassment? Schadenfreude? Sympathy? He couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling, but it didn’t matter. “I’m still astonished you saw it at all, and that you read the book. I truly thought you wouldn’t ever read it in a million years.”

She smiled at him. “It was just… to find out that you wrote that book, the one I felt was so close to your voice, your perspective, the one that changed me so profoundly, to find out that it actually was your voice, that it _was_ your story, well… I can’t really even describe how that felt. It was almost like…” Her chin trembled. “Like you had written that book _to me_. For me. To reach out to me and make me understand. And I was so… grateful for that…” She reached for a tissue and wiped at her eyes again.

Josh clasped Donna’s hand, squeezing it. She shot him a thankful look, clearly glad to have him supporting her for a change.

Jensen had to look up at the ceiling, his eyes pricking with moisture. _Shit_ , this was… intense. When he’d written that book, he’d poured a lot of his own feelings into it, but it was more about himself and Jared than anything else. To find out his mother felt that way, that his words had spoken to her like that… Jensen was swimming without a life jacket in a lake of conflicting emotions, waves of hurt and pain, hope and disbelief battering him, cold making him numb. Jared’s fingers tightened around his, thumb caressing his knuckles.

“I was _so_ proud of you, Jensen,” she continued, voice watery. “And you looked so healthy, so happy on that stage, and I felt so… relieved. I knew you were doing well, Josh and Mac let me know that much, but I could finally see with my own eyes that you have become this amazing adult, and I was so… _sad_ I didn’t know you anymore. So angry at myself for pushing you away.”

“Your mother showed me the interview when I got home that evening,” Alan said. “We watched it a few times, actually. And we decided we had to reconnect with you, even if it meant groveling. Unfortunately, my heart gave out before we could figure out how to approach you.”

“Alan, maybe it’s time for you to tell your part of the story,” Donna suggested.

“Actually, why don’t we take a break, Mom,” Josh interjected. “This is pretty heavy stuff, and I’m sure we could all use a few minutes.”

Jensen shot his brother a grateful glance. Yes. He really needed a moment —a year—to… think. To figure out how exactly he felt, because right then it was a swirling, tangled mess.

“Oh, yes, of course,” his mother said. “Can I get you anything, Jensen, Jared?”

Jensen shook his head as he stood up. “I think I’m going to step outside for a few minutes, get some fresh air. Maybe take a walk around the block, or something.”

Jared stood next to him, and Jensen knew without him speaking that Jared would join him.

Donna looked up, worry etched in her forehead. “You’re not leaving, though, right?”

“No,” Jared answered her, placing his palm on the small of Jensen’s back. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Just need a breather.”

Jensen nodded.

“Alright.”

Jensen shrugged on his jacket and stepped out onto the porch. Jared and Josh were right behind him, the front door closing with a soft click. Jensen rubbed a hand across his face and took a deep breath, then dropped down to sit on the top step. It was cool, probably about 65 degrees, a bit overcast, but pleasant.

“You okay, man?” Josh asked, stepping down the stairs to stand on the sidewalk.

Jared sat next to Jensen, but didn’t touch this time, giving him some space to breathe.

“I don’t know, Josh,” Jensen answered after a few more breaths. “This is all really good to hear, finally, when I thought I’d never hear any of it. But it’s going to take me some time. It’s been _ten years_ , man. I had done my best to accept the fact that my parents never wanted to see or talk to me again. And I was finally… okay with that. I mean, I wasn’t happy about it or anything, but I had finally made peace with it, as much as I could. I’d accepted it and moved on with my life. But now…”

“Now that’s suddenly changed and you have to get used to a new baseline,” Josh finished for him. “Yeah, I get it. This is dredging up all of that pain again. It’s hard for me to watch; I can’t imagine how you feel.”

“I really don’t know how I feel right now. It’s kind of… everything all at once. It’s like… old scars that I thought were healed are now fresh wounds again, and I’m just bleeding all over the place. But there’s catharsis, too, and hope. So.” Finding out his parents had resolved to contact him before Alan’s heart attack meant… something rather big, actually. It wasn’t just the emergency that made them do it, and that was more than he could make sense of then.

“Yeah.” Josh shrugged. “Man, I wish I hadn’t quit smoking. I could really use a cigarette after that.”

Jensen barked a surprised laugh, a spike of amusement and relief rolling through him. “No, you’d better not; Stephanie would skewer you, man.”

“Yeah, not to mention Dad. I got a long lecture this morning about heart problems running in the family and that I’d better take care of myself and stop stressing about work so much.”

“Well, he knows from experience, I suppose.” Jensen frowned, feeling an echo of the wave of terror he’d felt when he first heard about his father’s heart attack.

Jared bumped his shoulder. “He’ll be alright, Jen. Remember what Jeff said. If he takes care of himself, he can still have a long life.”

One of the neighbor’s cats jumped up on the porch then, curious about the new people. Jensen scratched the calico, which purred and butted her head against Jensen’s palm. “Better not let Dad see you on the porch, Miss Kitty, or you’ll get soaked.”

Jared reached out to pet the cat as well, and she purred even more loudly, winding herself around Jared’s legs in a figure-eight, back arching as she trilled. “Aw, you’re a sweetie, aren’t you?”

“What about you, Jared?” Josh asked. “Are you alright with all of this?”

Beside him, Jensen could feel Jared nod. “Of course,” Jared said. “I know how important my parents are to me. If Jensen can get that relationship with his own parents back, I’m all for it. I’m just here to support him through the turbulence.”

Jensen pressed his leg against his husband’s. Even though he’d felt a bit disconnected from Jared for the last few weeks, ever since he got the call from his mother, that distance had receded. They still weren’t dreaming together, but Jared was undoubtedly, solidly _there_ with him.

Josh looked pleased. “Well, I know that Mom and Dad are both really glad to meet you, Jared.”

“Really?” Jared asked.

Jensen echoed Jared’s surprise. So far his parents hadn’t talked much with Jared. They hadn’t excluded him, nor had they reacted negatively when Jensen touched him or held his hand, but they hadn’t really interacted with him much, either.

“Yeah. Mom was telling me last night that she can see how good you are together. She’s so glad you’re both here. I think they’re just focusing on working out stuff with Jensen first.”

Jensen mulled that over. “Huh, alright. I was expecting them to be more… ‘no gay touching!’ to be honest. But they’re not, and that’s… something.”

“You heard Mom in there, asking if you’re leaving. They don’t want to push you away again, and I made sure they know that if they are rude to Jared you’ll be out the door faster than they can blink. But I don’t think they’re being nice just to avoid that; I think they really just want to get to know you better. Both of you.”

A gust of wind blew up the back of Jensen’s jacket, and he shivered. “They’d better.” If they wouldn’t include Jared in the conversation, he’d make sure it was perfectly clear that he and Jared were a package deal.

“Jensen, I bet you that once we’ve worked through all of this… _history_ , they’ll interact with me more. They haven’t once given me a snide look or acted remotely disapproving, neither of them.”

Jensen ducked his chin into the collar of his jacket. He stood up, restless. “I know. I just…” He didn’t know how he was going to finish that sentence, so he just shrugged. “Wanna take a walk around the block?”

Jared rose to his feet as he zipped up his hoodie sweatshirt. “Sure.”

“Alright, I’ll go inside and reassure Mom and Dad that you’re not leaving,” Josh said, walking up the steps.

“Yeah, we’ll be back in a few,” Jensen said. “Just gonna clear my head.”

  


Fifteen minutes later, Jensen and Jared went back into the house, and Jensen felt better, less adrift. They’d walked around the block, then meandered through the back yard for a few minutes, Jensen talking about the neighborhood he grew up in. It was nice to share that part of his life with Jared―he’d never expected to be able to show his husband the tree he’d broken his arm falling out of when he was ten, the tennis court on which he’d spent months every year working on his serve or his backhand, or the neighbor’s pool that he, Chris, Steve, and Danni would sneak into on summer nights when the heat was just _unbearable_.

There were plenty of good memories in this house, and it soothed something inside Jensen to remember them, to recall times when he played catch with his father, when he helped his mother with the gardening, when he fought with Josh over whose turn it was to mow the lawn, when he taught Mac how to throw a punch and she knocked him on his ass.

He stood with Jared on the back porch, Jared’s arms wrapped around him as they grounded each other. Afterward, they headed inside, and Donna met them in the kitchen with a tray of cookies and a hopeful look on her face.

“Jensen, I made your favorite.” She held the cookies out toward him. “Jared, would you like some?”

Jared’s grin was blinding. “Are those chocolate chip?” he asked as he picked up two of them.

Jensen snorted. Jared’s sweet tooth was legendary, and his husband made happy food-gasm noises as he ate a cookie whole. “Oh my god, these are awesome!” he mumbled around his mouthful.

His mother looked pleased and didn’t bother to chide Jared for his appalling manners. “Yes, chocolate chip walnut. Jensen and I used to make them together when he was little, and then have some with milk. He and I always had the first ones from the batch, and then we’d make more for everyone else.”

Jensen smiled at the memory and helped himself to a cookie, butter and chocolate melting on his tongue. Damn, they were as good as he remembered. “Thanks, Mom.”

Jared stuffed another cookie into his mouth and moaned happily.

Jensen sniggered. “You’ll never get rid of him now.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad thing, Jensen,” she said, touching his shoulder. “I’d love to have the both of you here for much longer than you’ll be able to stay. I want to get to know my son again, and my son-in-law.”

Jared quirked an eyebrow at Jensen and nudged him with his elbow, a _See? Told you so_ written all over his face.

“You’ve got chocolate on your chin, slob,” Jensen scolded, rubbing his thumb over Jared’s chin to clean the smear away.

Jensen’s mother laughed when Jared stuck his tongue out at him, and Jensen glanced over to see a fond expression on her face. “Well, your father is still in the living room,” she said. “He still has some things he wants to talk to you about.”

Jensen’s chest tightened up again, but he forced himself to relax. “Alright.”

“It will be okay, Jensen,” Donna said as she set the tray of cookies down on the counter and headed toward the living room.

Jensen mused that already she was trying to comfort him, and he apparently didn’t seem to mind it. He’d thought for sure that it would take longer for him to be okay with her being “motherly,” and maybe it still would, but for now, it was nice.

“Have a nice walk?” Alan asked when they took their seats on the sofa.

Donna sat down on the love seat next to Josh, who was munching on a cookie of his own, napkin over his lap.

“Yeah, showed Jared some of my old haunts.”

“Wonderful.” Alan shifted in the recliner, turning his body toward Jensen more, and then there was a long silence in which Jensen took a deep breath and pushed away his jitters.

Alan finally broke the silence. “Well, I guess it’s my turn to offer some explanations now.”

Jensen leaned into Jared as he reminded himself that this was going to be fine. “I’m listening, Dad.”

“Well. About the same time as―maybe it was a little before, actually. Yes, just before we started talking to Pastor Ainsworth, I had lunch with an old friend of mine, John Kingsley. Do you remember him? I think you were nine or ten the last time you saw him.”

Jensen thought back and had a flash image of one of his father’s friends, tall, glasses, and always toting around a camera. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, he’s a cinematographer now, lives in LA and works for the movie studios. Anyway, he was in town, and we met up for lunch. He asked about you, and we ended up having a pretty heated discussion. He questioned all of my beliefs about homosexuality. He poked holes in all of my logic, and he helped me see that I should be proud of you and your accomplishments. And I am proud, Jensen, so proud of you.”

Jensen’s heart thudded. Growing up, he’d felt that he was never good enough for his father. He’d never once felt like his Dad was proud of him―he was always not quite manly enough. So to hear that… it hit him hard. And it made him angry.

“You’re proud of me,” he said, voice low. “ _Now_.”

Alan nodded. “And he made me realize something else―that I did you a disservice by riding you so hard while you were growing up, trying to make you compete with Josh. I’m sorry, Jensen. You’re a different person than your brother. I should have recognized it and accepted it, rather than try to force you to change.”

“You’re right, you should have.” Jensen clenched his hands, trying to keep his cool, reminding himself that the important thing was that his father recognized it now. He looked over at his brother, who had wide, shocked eyes, obviously surprised at being brought into the conversation like this. Jensen shook his head, silently indicating that he didn't need Josh to jump in. Josh blinked at him, grateful.

“I’m so sorry, Jensen,” his father continued, remorse suffusing his voice. “You have every reason to hate me, and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. I don’t blame you anymore for anything that happened in the past. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you from here on out. But it’s up to you―I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. So I guess I just want to get to know you again, be a part of your life again, in whatever way you’ll allow me.”

“Yes, me too,” his mother interjected.

“And that means getting to know your husband.” Alan looked at Jared. “I hope that’s okay with you, Jared.”

Jared glanced over at Jensen, hazel eyes questioning. Jensen just gave a slight shrug.

“It’s okay with me as long as it’s okay with Jensen,” he said. “I’m following Jensen’s lead. But I’m glad we’re here, and that you guys have made the effort to reconcile.”

Alan acknowledged that and turned his eyes back to Jensen. His mother was also looking at him, and Jensen suddenly felt like they were expecting him to pronounce them forgiven and welcome them back into his life.

Squaring his shoulders, Jensen leaned forward. “I’m going to be honest with you both. I’m glad to hear everything you’ve said today. I don’t hate either of you, and I’m glad you’re finally trying to make amends. That means a lot to me. But…” Jensen paused to figure out how to phrase what he was thinking, and finally decided to be blunt. He wasn’t about to soften things for them, and he needed to get this off his chest, bleed it out.

“It’s been ten years. Ten years of believing that you were disgusted by me, ten years of anger and pain, and even before that, there were years of me living in terror of what you would do when you found out.” He swallowed around the ache in his throat and studied the lines in Jared’s fingers on his thigh. “That won’t change, even though you’ve apologized for it now. And I appreciate that, I do. I… I feel like this is a beginning. I hope that things between us can continue to improve. But it’s going to take some time for me to work through all of this and figure out how I feel about it and how to fit you back into my life. And it will take some time for you to earn my trust again; I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust or forgive you completely. But I am willing to give you that chance.” _Just don’t screw it up again_.

His mother looked on the verge of tears again, but she gave him a shaky smile. “That’s all we want, Jensen.”

Alan was smiling as well. “Yes. I can’t promise we won’t make any more mistakes, but I can promise that we love you and that we’ll try our best to not unintentionally hurt you. All we want is for you to be happy and for us to be able to share in that happiness as much as you’ll let us.”

Jensen nodded and then collapsed back against the sofa, utterly drained. He let his head fall sideways onto Jared’s shoulder. Across from him, he could see that his father was also showing signs of exhaustion. This… was good enough for one day.

“I think we should probably go back to the hotel,” Jared said. “This has been good, but it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” Josh asked. “We’d be happy to have you over again.”

“No, I think we need to have a quiet evening to ourselves,” Jensen answered. He really needed some time to work through everything, and he needed to just be with Jared right now.

“Would you be willing to come back tomorrow?” Donna asked. “You’re not leaving until day after, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. We can come by tomorrow,” Jensen replied. “You’ll be here for dinner tomorrow night, right?” he asked Josh.

“Yes, we’ll be here. Mac too,” Josh said.

“Great, that way we can see y'all one more time before we go home. Mom, we’ll come over after lunch tomorrow, spend a bit more time with you and Dad before dinner.”

“Good!“ His mother clapped her hands together, pleased. “Then maybe we can get started on getting to know you both better.”

Jensen rose to collect his jacket. “That would be nice. Dad, I am glad you’re home and doing better,” he said, reaching for his father’s hand. “Get some rest and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Alan used Jensen’s hand to lever himself up out of the chair. “Thank you, son.” He pulled Jensen into a hug. “I love you.”

Jensen’s throat tightened up again, and instead of speaking he just hugged his father tighter, grateful to hear the heartbeat in his chest.

He looked up to see his mother hugging Jared. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jared,” she said. “Thank you.”

Jared met Jensen’s eyes. “You’re welcome, Donna. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it. Jensen?” she asked, holding her arms up in a request for a hug.

After making sure his father had his balance, Jensen let go and walked into his mother’s arms, feeling warmth blossoming in his chest, hope filtering through him. His parents wanted him back in their lives, and even though he was going to take it slow, just that knowledge did so much to soothe over old hurts. “See you tomorrow, Mom,” he said into her hair.

She held onto him for another long moment. “Such a fine man you’ve become,” she whispered.

Cheeks flushing, Jensen stepped back. His mother gazed at him intently, before pulling him down so she could kiss him on the forehead. “I love you, Jensen. See you tomorrow.”

  


Jensen was quiet on the drive back to the hotel. He felt like his brain was working in slow-motion, wheels rotating idly, gears disengaged. Jared was driving, and he sang along with the radio, one hand on Jensen’s thigh, giving Jensen the space to breathe.

Once they were back in the hotel room, Jensen shrugged off his jacket and face-planted on the king-sized bed.

“Jesus,” he moaned into the duvet.

Jared let out a soft chuckle as he kneed between Jensen’s feet and pulled off his shoes. “Nope, just me.”

Jensen gave a half-hearted snort.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. Or I will be, anyway. Just have to… I don’t know… work out how I’m feeling about it all.”

Jared palmed the back of his calf. “You’ll get through this and it will be just fine. Your parents love you and want to be a part of your life, and they finally accept you as a gay man. That’s _huge_ , Jensen.”

Jensen shut his eyes and sighed, feeling the warmth of Jared’s palm on his leg. “I know. Believe me. I think I’m still a bit in shock about it, really.”

Jared gave a soft laugh. “Understandably. Why don’t you take a shower and decompress?” he suggested. “I’ll order us something for dinner, and we can just get a movie and veg all evening.”

Jensen pondered it over for half a second before deciding that it was a marvelous idea. “Brilliant. You’re a goddamn genius,” he mumbled into the duvet. He doubted he’d make it through an entire movie, though, he was so exhausted. He’d known the day with his parents would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected to be so… wiped out afterward.

Jared gave a bemused hum and tugged on his foot. “Damn straight. What do you want for dinner? I can order room service, or I can run to the restaurant across the street and get take out.”

Jensen wasn’t all that hungry, but he knew he would start to feel shaky if he didn’t eat something soon. “Whatever is easiest, whatever you want. You know what I like.” He got to his feet and tugged his shirt over his head.

“Alright,” Jared said as Jensen walked into the bathroom.

Jensen shucked off the rest of his clothes and started the shower. Jared poked his head in a minute later and gave Jensen a long, appreciative glance. “I’m gonna head across the street. The room service menu looks way overpriced.”

“Sounds good.” Jensen stepped into the shower, closing the curtain. “Thanks.”

“No prob. Back in a few minutes.”

Jensen heard the door shut, and then he let out a deep breath. He propped his elbows up on the shower wall and rested his forehead on his fists, letting the hot water rain down his back.

There had been a reason he’d never told his parents he was gay, a reason he stayed firmly in the closet with them all through high school until he was forcibly outed. He’d known, from the first moments in his early adolescence when he began to suspect he wasn’t straight, that his parents would never accept it. They would never accept _him_ , and they would never compromise their values for his sake. His father would always see him as less than Josh, and he would never stop disapproving of Jensen’s choices.

That knowledge had been Jensen’s firm reality since he was twelve. And yet, here he was, watching astounded as his parents ripped out every root of “always” and “never” and replaced his reality with something new―seeds of hope for a better relationship. Despite himself, Jensen felt the seeds sprouting, hope growing that maybe, just maybe his parents would back up their words with actions, and maybe they would gradually be able to soothe decade-old hurts.

It was more than Jensen had ever imagined could happen, and he just needed time to adjust to this… paradigm shift.

Jensen lost track of how long he stood under the shower, taking advantage of the time to himself and the hotel’s endless supply of hot water. Once he realized his fingers were starting to prune, he decided he’d had enough. He washed his hair, thinking about having a relaxing evening with Jared. Jeff and Danneel were right about that—Jensen needed some quality time with his husband. He was done ruminating about his parents for the day; now it was Jensen-and-Jared time.

Jensen quickly scrubbed off the last of the residual tension of the day and turned off the water. By the time Jared came back into the room, a bag of takeout in his hands, Jensen was dressed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, his hair still damp. He wanted to eat and then snuggle up, watch TV or a movie, and fall asleep.

Jared tossed the room key on the table and sat down on the sofa, placing the bag on the coffee table. “Got you a steak with a salad.”

Jensen’s stomach growled audibly, and he grinned around a yawn. “Awesome.”

Jared smirked at him as he pulled out the to-go containers.

Jensen fetched a couple of beers from their mini-fridge and passed one to Jared as he sat down. Jared fished out his pocket knife and handed it over.

“Thanks.” The plastic utensils provided by the restaurant just wouldn’t work for cutting a steak.

“You look better,” Jared said after they’d dug into their food, beers half-finished.

“Yeah, I am.”

Jared smiled at him. “Good.”

“It’s like… since Mom called me, I’ve been completely consumed by all of this, and think I hit a point tonight where I need to put my family drama aside for a while and just be with you.”

Jared raised his eyebrows, pleased. “You won’t hear me object to that.”

Jensen hooked his foot around Jared’s ankle. “I _really_ appreciate how supportive you’ve been with all of this, Jared, but I feel like I have no idea what’s going on with you lately. I don’t like feeling out-of-touch with you, and I know that before all of this happened with my parents, you were stressed with work and your submissions and everything. So, how are things now?”

Jared froze for a fraction of a second, wide, trapped eyes staring at him through chestnut hair, and then swallowed. “Um, fine.”

Jensen frowned and made a disbelieving hum.

Jared gave a faint whine the longer Jensen looked at him, then took a deep breath, shoulders slumping. He shifted on the sofa so his knees were touching Jensen’s and he could look at him more straight on. “Well, I guess now’s a good a time as any.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Jared huffed out a sharp laugh. “I don’t know about that, but it isn’t good news.”

Jensen just looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“I quit my job at the gym.”

Jensen blinked. “What? When?”

“Before we left. When I told my boss I needed a few days off to come here with you, she wouldn’t give it to me. Said she wasn’t gonna cater to an employee who kept trying to get customers kicked out.” Jared scowled. “She said if I didn’t show for my shift this weekend, I was fired. So I quit.”

Jensen thought back to the other day, when they were getting ready for the trip, and Jared came home from work in a foul mood. Jensen had needed to talk about his father, and then he was stressed over trying to get all their last-second travel arrangements made, so he hadn’t pressed Jared about it. Come to think of it, there had been a few times in the last couple of weeks when Jensen didn’t press Jared about what was bothering him… Jensen wanted to kick himself for being a self-absorbed jerk.

But Jared hadn’t said a word about quitting his job.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jared’s face went earnest. “It just didn’t seem like a good time. You were upset about your dad and focused on getting here, and I didn’t want to add to that.”

Jensen felt a touch of annoyance, but he pushed it away in favor of the relief, a much larger presence in his mind. “But this could actually be a good thing! Now you can spend more time just painting and marketing your art. And you don’t have to deal with homophobic assholes anymore.”

Jared didn’t look as pleased. “But I won’t be bringing in an income, Jensen.”

Jensen waved his hand. “I told you before, that’s _fine_. Even if you had no income for a year, we’d be just fine. Things might be a little tighter, but we wouldn’t be in financial trouble at all. I would rather support you while you work on getting your artwork out there, so you don’t have to worry about money and can just focus on painting.”

“But Jensen―”

“Jared, stop. I know you need to feel like you’re carrying your own weight, and I love you for it. But let me do this for you. Let me help you for a while. It’s important for you to take some time now to do the groundwork to build a career in painting. If you do that, you’ll be more likely to have a lot more success down the road. It’s not you being a lazy mooch. You’re investing in your future success, and that _is_ you carrying your own weight.”

Jared had a dazed look on his face, like he hadn’t thought of it that way before. Then a smile broke over his features, one dimple peeking out at Jensen. “Alright.”

Jensen beamed at him. “Great! So stop worrying about the stupid jerks at the gym, and just focus on your art. How’s your _Obsidian_ submission going? Anything new there?”

And just like that, Jared’s face fell, optimism sucked out of him surely as if Jensen had vacuumed all good feeling from the room.

Jensen had a flash of earlier that week, when Jared had done the same thing in his studio, stiffened up when Jensen mentioned the _Obsidian_ show. He hadn’t quite put the pieces together then, but now, it was obvious, and unease flooded his belly, cold and jagged. “What’s going on with your _Obsidian_ submission, Jared? What aren’t you telling me?”

Jared shot to his feet and began pacing. Jensen watched him, the way his hands trembled and bunched up into fists. “I didn’t get the show, Jensen.”

“Why? I thought the guy really liked your work.”

Jared tilted his head, a deeply cynical expression on his face. It looked… foreign. Jared should never look that jaded. “Oh, he did. He _loved_ my work. Liked _me_ a lot, too, the bastard.”

Jensen’s brain stumbled over that and skipped ahead to worst-case-scenarios, alarm bells ringing. “What… Jared, what are you talking about?”

His husband gave a visible shudder, and Jensen could see goose bumps break out on the skin of his arms. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Jensen stood up and grasped Jared’s hand, halting his movement. “Jared,” he said softly, trying to calm them both. “Jay, what’s wrong?”

Jared ducked his face, looking at Jensen’s shoulder and hiding behind his hair. When he finally spoke, his voice was small and wobbly. “I… I didn’t get the show. Because… because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

An icy adrenaline wave spiked inside him, and it took Jensen an age to remember to breathe. “Oh god, Jared. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He pulled Jared to him, wrapping his arms around his husband protectively.

Jared huffed as he hugged Jensen back. “He didn’t hurt me, no. I’m okay.”

Jensen only half-believed him. Jared’s eyes were downcast, his face flushed, and Jensen wanted to scream at whoever did this to his husband.

Jensen tipped Jared’s face up with a finger under his chin, ducking close so their eyes could meet. “Tell me what happened?”

Jared seemed to find some determination, his jaw clenching even as his lip trembled, and he dropped to the sofa, his hands finding Jensen’s. “Can you just… let me get the whole story out? I need to get through it all at once without any interruptions.”

Jensen took a deep breath. Jared was obviously really upset, and even though Jensen needed to know what the hell had occurred right this goddamned minute, he refused to berate his husband when something awful had already happened to him. He sat down next to Jared on the sofa and laced their fingers together.

“Whatever you need, Jared. I’ll listen, promise.”

Jared gave him a tremulous smile, squeezed his hand, and took a deep breath. “Dunstan Parker, he runs _Obsidian_ , right? Any artist who shows there is pretty much guaranteed to do well, to sell and sell big. And he was looking for a new unknown artist to feature in his annual ‘Hot Talent’ show.”

Jensen bit back impatient words. He knew this already, but he reminded himself to let Jared get it all out.

“Well. When I first met with him about the concept I had in mind for the series I wanted to do for my submission, he just gushed about how much he loved my work. He touched me a lot when I was showing him my pieces―not like that!” he added when he saw Jensen’s expression of outrage. “Just, like little touches to my shoulder or my arms, and I didn’t think anything of it. I’m a pretty touchy guy, always hugging people, and I just figured he was like that too. He seemed to be like that with everyone.”

The muscles in Jensen’s legs twitched as he tried to stay calm.

“I should have fucking known, though.” Jared scowled. “Tom told me he’d heard rumors that Dunstan was a creep way back when I first decided to try for the show, but I didn’t really believe him. I didn’t think Parker could be all that bad, not if artists loved to show with him. And then last weekend at your party, Tom was talking about it again, about how some guy he knows had to pose nude for Parker to get a piece included in a show, and by then I knew from experience that the rumors were true. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it, and Tom didn’t realize that he was getting too close, because when do I ever have a problem with personal space and being touchy-feely with my friends?”

Jared bit his lip. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway… Before we went to Chicago, Dunstan said he wanted to see several paintings in the same concept I presented to him. He made it sound like I had the show. So I worked on some sketches and preliminary paintings.”

Jensen remembered Jared working on drawings and a draft painting, how he was so excited about it, saying he was a shoo-in for the show. Jensen had been so pleased at the time, because Jared was happy about it. He hadn’t asked about the details because he was dealing with his classes and preparing for the Oprah interview.

“After we got back from Chicago, I met with him again, showed him what I had put together. He liked the sketches, and that was when it started to get a little weird.” Jared went silent, spinning his wedding band around his finger with his thumb.

“Weird, how?” Jensen prompted.

“Well, he wanted me to work in his studio so he could see my ‘process.’ Which was fine; there were other artists there, too, and he was telling them all that they were good, that he was considering them for the show. But the touching thing got worse every time he came in to ‘observe’ me. Now it was more often, and on my back or hip, and he kept getting in my personal space. Which was a little creepy, but I put it off as him being eccentric and I just tried to stay out of his reach. Which was easier said than done, actually.”

Jared scowled and shuddered again—Jensen was reminded of how jumpy Jared was at the party the previous weekend, and then he wanted to kick himself for forgetting to ask Jared about it later. “He said he liked my drafts, but it wasn’t quite what he wanted. And if I could just do it a little differently, show him another four or five paintings in the concept he wanted, he’d give me the _Obsidian_ show.”

Jared’s eyes glimmered, pleading with Jensen to understand. “I really, really wanted that show, Jen.”

“I know, Jared,” Jensen replied, reassuring. He did know how much Jared wanted the _Obsidian_ show―it had been all he talked about, how excited he was with the concept, how much he liked the drawings, how thrilled he was that Dunstan liked what he was doing. Jensen realized that Jared had gradually stopped talking about it, though, and he hadn’t really noticed. No, he’d been too caught up in the Oprah interview and his classes, and they just seemed to not be able to talk as much as they used to.

“It would have been _huge_ for me, made my name in this town. It would have made my career.”

Jensen nodded, trying to show that he wasn’t angry with Jared, but he couldn’t help his mind from spinning out worst-case scenarios, nor could he untangle the snarled knot in his gut.

“So I did another round of drafts, trying to match the design he and I had talked about. I busted my ass on that series. He started calling me several times a day about then, ‘encouraging’ me with these flirty messages, and I started to get really sick of hearing from him. When he saw those paintings, he said he loved them. They were exactly what he wanted, but then he made a major pass at me. He said the only way I’d get the show, the only way he’d _ever_ show any of my artwork was if I… paid him for the favor by letting him fuck me.”

Jensen dug his nails into his knee, rage surging through him, and he growled, unable to keep silent.

“I didn’t!” Jared insisted. “I swear, Jensen.”

“I know, babe. You wouldn’t,” Jensen soothed as he brushed Jared’s hair behind his ear. That wasn’t ever a question for him. He had no doubts whatsoever about Jared’s fidelity. The fact that Jared seemed to be worried about Jensen doubting him, though, was a cause for concern. “I trust you, and I’m not mad at you.” He was _livid_ , but not at Jared. And a small, hurt voice was bubbling inside him, wondering why Jared hadn’t told him about this sooner.

Jared looked relieved. “I told him no. No way in hell. He said that he had a better artist lined up for the show, someone who got the concept better than I did—because he was just leading me on about thinking my painting were the best, or so he said. But mine were still good enough, and he’d give me the show if I’d let him fuck me. That was the deal for _anyone_ to show with him.”

Jared got to his feet and started pacing in front of the coffee table. “This guy, he has the ability to make an artists’ career, and he won’t do it unless they bend over for him. He doesn’t care if it’s a guy or a gal as long as he’s the one doing the fucking. I just… I told him to fuck himself, and he said he’d never show any of my work, and he threatened me, too. Said he could ensure that my stuff never sells in LA, _and_ if I don’t have sex with him, I’d better not ever tell anyone about his offer or he’ll convince all the other gallery owners to blackball me as a Prima Donna impossible to work with.” 

Jared’s hands shook, agitated, and then curled into fists. “And the thing of it is that he is connected enough to do it. I’ll never show in LA again if I try to expose him. He seemed to be under the impression that I’ll eventually cave and agree to his terms. Told me I’d come crawling back. He’s even left me some messages since then that are really subtle threats, and they all mean the same thing—I have to either submit or keep my mouth shut. That’s why I had my phone off at your party, actually. I didn’t want to hear it ringing when we were celebrating your interview.”

Jensen growled again, contemplating murder. That slimy, perverted, fucking _bastard_.

“And the next day I went to work and dealt with those assholes talking about how they should be able to fuck the female trainers in the same breath as they made bigoted comments about some other members who were obviously gay, and I just couldn’t put up with it any more. I went to Lauren and requested that their membership be revoked. Instead, she gave me a warning and told me I should be used to hearing stuff like that and to just deal with it.

“That was the day you came into my studio and I was painting rage.”

“I remember.” He also remembered feeling like Jared wasn’t telling him everything, and the small hurt voice grew stronger. Why hadn’t Jared said anything to him about any of this before now? Had he done something to make Jared think he couldn’t talk to him?

“But, I guess it’s all over now. I quit my job, so I don’t have to deal with that anymore, and I’m never going to talk to Dunstan Parker again, no matter what he thinks. I’ve already cleared out all of my stuff from his studio.” Jared sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just have to figure out what I’m going to do now. Change my phone number to start, probably.” He flopped back down onto the sofa, enervated and limp.

“That’s not a bad idea, but we already decided what you’re going to do now, Jared,” Jensen reminded him. “You can take as much time as you need to work on your art. Find somewhere else to show it. Or, you can see about finding an art teaching job. It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re happy and you’re safe.”

Jared sagged into him, forehead dropping to press against Jensen’s temple. “Yeah, alright.”

Jensen curled his arms around Jared again, wanting to do nothing else but make sure his husband was fine. The adrenaline rush was dissipating now, and Jensen was crashing. He felt so… drained. What a fucking day. “You gonna be okay?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, I think so. It’s not like he molested me, Jen. He never got closer than my hip or my back.”

“Don’t care. Still wanna cut his balls off.”

“Hah, me too. I don’t know why I feel so… disturbed by it. It was easy to just not think about it at all after your Dad. It was actually a relief to have something else to focus on. Because every time I think about what he wanted, I just… feel… _unclean_.”

“He took advantage of you, he touched you in a way you didn’t want, and he tried to coerce you into something that you didn’t want to do. That’s _disturbing_. You have every reason to feel exactly the way you do, and it’s not your fault.”

Jared made a noncommittal noise and propped his head against Jensen’s.

They breathed together, inhale, exhale, for several minutes in which Jensen’s insides seethed and writhed. “Jared, why didn’t you say anything about any of this sooner?” The words fell out of his mouth before he’d really thought them through.

Jared sat up and looked at him, a defensive glint in his eyes. “I was going to, actually. It’s not like I was trying to keep this from you, Jensen. But. At first I needed to figure out how I felt myself.” The jut of his jaw dared Jensen to find fault with him needing some time to himself.

Jensen shook his head. “I get that, I do. I just… I wish you’d come to me about this.”

Jared’s face went stony. “I just did.”

“Dammit, that’s not what I meant,” Jensen said, rubbing at his eyes.

“It sounds like you are making this about me not telling you, Jensen, when I’m the one who’s actually had to deal with it. It’s not about you. It’s about me, so forgive me for taking a little time for myself.”

Jensen put his hands up. “Whoa, this is really not what I meant, Jay. I’m sorry, I’m just tired and my brain isn’t working very well.”

Jared snorted in agreement.

“Look, I’m not angry at you for not telling me. That all came out wrong. I was just worried that maybe I’d done something to make you think you _couldn’t_ talk to me about it. Because I don’t want to do that. I don’t ever want to make you feel like you can’t come to me about something like this. If I have done anything, I’m sorry. And I’m not trying to make this about me. I want to be here for you.”

Jared folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “Well, I figured I could tell you the next time we dreamed together.”

“Which didn’t happen because for some reason we’re not dreaming together right now,” Jensen finished.

“Yeah. Which sucks, Jensen. I miss it. I miss the safe place it is for us. And on top of that, I just… I felt like you wanted me to get the show so much. You kept asking me about it, telling me to keep trying for it…”

“I only wanted it for you because _you_ wanted it!” Jensen insisted, feeling the frustration he’d been holding back simmer over. “You wanted it so much, I was just trying to cheer you on! I had no idea the guy was a creep, because you didn’t tell me about that. I’d _never_ want you to have to deal with someone like that! I’d never want you to put up with sexual harassment just so you can get a stupid gallery show!”

“That’s not what I said,” Jared gritted out.

“Alright. Just need to be clear on that point.”

Jared frowned, sighing. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Jensen sighed as well, feeling fatigue wash over him. “Jared, you couldn’t disappoint me by not getting an art show.”

“Plus, you were dealing with the Oprah interview, and then everything happened with your dad, and I didn’t want to add to your stress.”

Jensen barely refrained from swatting him on the head. “Jared. No matter how much stress I’m under, I always want to know what’s going on with you. _You_ are more important to me than an interview, or a job, my classes, or…”

“Your parents?”

Jensen sat back and thought that over for a moment. “Yes, actually. Goddammit, Jared. They might be my parents, but they haven’t been there for me through my whole life like you have. And believe me, I’m glad they’re finally pulling their heads out of their asses and being decent human beings to me. They’re gonna have to work at it for a while to even begin to make things up to me. But they are optional figures in my life. _You_ are not.”

Jared blinked at him, his mouth falling open.

“So don’t you think for one second that I would put them over you. If you need me, let me know, dammit.” How on earth did Jared not know this already?

A small, besotted smile crept onto Jared’s face, and Jensen felt a wave of relief. “Are we okay?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah.”

Jensen surged forward and kissed him, a firm, open-mouthed press of lips. When the kiss broke, Jensen let his head fall onto Jared’s shoulder. “Christ, I’m tired. Can we continue this tomorrow?”

He could feel Jared’s head move in agreement. “Hah, yeah, this probably wasn’t the best night to have this conversation, was it?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you told me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jared ran his fingers through Jensen’s hair. “I am now. Let’s just go to bed, alright?”

Jensen groaned. “Brilliant idea, Jay.”

Jared huffed a soft laugh. “You head to bed, I’ll clean up from dinner.”

Jensen looked down at their half-eaten dinners and closed the container lid over his steak. “Let’s just put them in the fridge. We can decide what to do about them tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Jared stood up and took the two styrofoam containers over to the mini fridge.

They went through their nightly routine together in practiced silence, brushing their teeth and using the restroom, but when they climbed into bed, Jensen insisted on being the big spoon. He needed to wrap around Jared and be a wall between his husband and the world.

Jared didn’t object for once. He just tucked himself tightly against Jensen’s chest and clung to his arm, their legs twining together as his breathing slowed.

Despite how tired he was, it was hours before Jensen was able to sleep.

  



	6. Five

  


Saturday, October 28, 2006

Jensen woke up the next morning when Jared rolled over in his arms, head coming to rest on his shoulder. Seeing him awake, Jared mumbled a sleepy, “G’morning.”

Jensen shifted so Jared could get more comfortable and then buried his nose in Jared’s mop of hair. Christ, he loved the way Jared smelled in the mornings. “G’morning.” His voice rattled as they sank into each other, sleep warm and heavy.

Jensen glanced at the clock on the bedside table―9:37 am. Damn, that meant that he had maybe six hours of sleep. It was much later than Jared usually got up in the morning. He must have needed the rest, too. Jensen didn’t mind at all, actually. He closed his eyes, breathed in his husband, and hoped he could fall back asleep for another hour.

“D’ya sleep alright?” Jared asked after a long silence.

“Mmm, marginally.” Despite how exhausted he was physically, Jensen’s mind had just not stopped spinning, whirling around everything he’d experienced the previous day. His parents’ apologies, their explanations―that alone would have been enough to wear him out and wind him up. But to add learning that his husband had been sexually harassed, well. It was only natural that he’d lain there half the night, unable to calm his mind and ruminating over the situation instead, worrying about Jared, furious that he’d not been there to help his husband, distressed that Jared hadn’t talked to him about it sooner, and fantasizing about ways to punish Dunstan Parker for being a Grade A slimeball.

Not that he’d been able to come up with any good ideas. For being such a creative person, Jensen was oddly able to envisage only cliched, typical sentiments of wanting to see Parker hurt, humiliated, exposed, or run out of business.

He’s also spent a lot of time thinking about their dream connection and the way it was inconveniently absent lately. It was such a huge part of who he was―who they were―that he wasn’t quite sure how to function without it.

And that was part of the problem―they _weren’t_ functioning without their dreams. They were getting by, yes, but they were not working with the same synchronicity as they usually did.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” Jared said. “Is that what kept you up last night?”

Jensen sighed. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about our dreams, and how they’re not happening lately, and how frustrated I am that we’re not having them, because I feel so… disconnected from you without them, like a part of us is missing.”

Jared shifted up onto one arm so he could look Jensen in the eyes. “I know exactly what you mean. I really… miss the dreams with you. I’ve needed them so much lately because I really needed to talk to you about all of this. But it just kept not happening, and I didn’t know how to handle it. This is the longest we’ve gone without them.”

“But that’s exactly the problem, Jared,” Jensen insisted. “That’s what I realized last night. We’re so used to doing all our important talking in the dreams that we don’t know how to talk outside of them.”

Jared’s eyebrows pinched together, a sleepy, confused expression on his face. “What… We talk all the time…”

“Sure, about our schedules, about who’s going to get groceries and who’s going to do laundry, and when we’re going to have lunch together or coffee with Chris and Sandy. We talk about the mundane, routine day-to-day stuff, Jared. But not the _deep_ , important stuff. We save that for the dreams.”

Jared’s mouth fell open. He blinked. “Holy shit.”

“We’ve been together how many years now? Four and a half, right? But before that, we were talking _exclusively_ in our dreams. Nearly a decade in which that was the _only_ way we communicated.”

Jared started to nod in dawning understanding, his mouth still hanging open.

Jensen continued. “It’s what we’re used to―it’s our default mode of communication. But now that we’re together, we shouldn’t be relying on the dreams so much anymore. But we _are_.”

Jared sat up and ran his hand through his hair, making part of it stand up on end. “Oh my god, Jensen, you’re absolutely right. We’re… _dependent_ on our dreams for talking.”

Jensen sat up against the headboard, sliding his legs between Jared’s. “Exactly. And when we aren’t dreaming together, we’re not having the discussions we need to have. It isn’t just the dreams I miss, it’s the _intimacy_ of our conversations.”

“Jesus, I can’t believe I didn’t put this together.” Jared’s hazel eyes were wide and bright in the pale-morning sunlight. “I always knew that the only times our dreams fritz out is when we’re stressed out, and we’ve both been stressed the last couple of months. And then not having the dreams just made me more stressed… It’s a self-perpetuating cycle.”

“This is why we’ve been so out of sync lately. You’ve noticed that, right?”

Jared’s head bobbed. “Yes, the little miscommunications, the assumptions that don’t pan out… not being able to read each other as well as we usually do…”

“We have to stop relying on the dreams for talking about the important things,” Jensen said, sliding his hand over Jared’s jaw, morning stubble scraping across his palm. “I know we both feel… _safer_ there, because we’re so in tune and it’s so effortless for us to understand each other without feeling vulnerable or having to work at it. But we can’t assume the dreams will come back, or if they do that they’ll always be there when we need them. We have to do the work of talking when we’re awake.”

Jared shifted onto his knees and straddled Jensen’s thighs. Jensen pulled him close with his hands on Jared’s hips, then laced their fingers together while he brushed Jared’s hair out of his eyes with his other hand. “Yes, you’re right. We’ve gotten used to our routine, though. We need to change it, otherwise we’ll just slip back into old habits.”

“Should we reserve time once or twice a week just for talking?” Jensen suggested. “Make it a date, only not for going out. Just you and me at home.”

“That works. And now that I’m not working at the gym, I’ll be home more, at least until I figure out what I’m going to do. How about we reserve Sundays for just us, and then have a night during the week―Wednesday is good―for a dinner-and-talking date at home.”

Jensen felt relief dawning over his face. “I like that idea.” Having Jared on top of him like this was becoming… _distracting_. But he needed to focus.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Jared said. “I really wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”

Jensen shrugged the apology away. “I’m just worried about you. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jared snickered. “I’m not traumatized, or anything, Jensen. Angry at him, yes. I did feel… dirty for a few days, but he never did anything more than touch my hip. I’m fine.”

“Really?” Jensen was a little wary, given how upset Jared had seemed the night before. He didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or move too fast.

Jared gave him a reassuring smile, hazel eyes glinting. “Yes, really. You don’t need to worry about touching me. Your touch always feels right.”

“Mmm, good. Because I really feel like touching you all over right now.”

Jared’s eyes darkened. “Please do, by all means.” He rocked his hips against Jensen’s, pressing their lengths together.

Jensen hissed and pulled Jared’s mouth down to his. Lips opening to each other, Jensen cared not one whit about morning breath as Jared’s tongue slid into his mouth.

The kiss went from a lazy morning hello to boiling hot in a matter of seconds. Fuck, yeah, he needed this. With all the emotional upheaval of the last few days, Jensen just needed to ground himself again―by reconnecting physically with his husband. Jensen ran his palms up Jared’s flanks, then curled around his sharp hip bones to clutch at his ass.

Jared broke from the kiss with a moan as Jensen pressed their groins together, his head falling backward. “Unnngh. Yeah, Jen.” It was clear to Jensen that Jared needed this just as much as he did, from the way his long fingers were gripping at Jensen’s arms, his neck, his back, and the way he was grinding their cocks together, the fabric of their boxers providing a coarse friction between them.

Jensen busied his mouth with laving the moles on Jared’s long throat, rocking into him. Goddamn, Jared was gorgeous, and the way he was writhing on top of Jensen was scorching hot. He needed to feel all of Jared, know by touch alone that Jared was alright.

Growling, he tipped his husband sideways and rolled on top of him, rocking into him again. “Do we have lube unpacked?” He hoped desperately that the answer was yes.

Jared nodded, his eyes blown dark with arousal as he pushed his briefs off and kicked them across the room. “Yeah, in the bedside table drawer. Hurry.”

Jensen fumbled in the drawer for the bottle of lube, slicking up his fingers while Jared stripped him of his underwear. He briefly entertained the notion of rimming Jared, but they were both too keyed up for that. No, he needed to be inside Jared, now.

Jared pulled his legs up, spreading himself wide to give Jensen room.

“Goddamn, Jared, look at you,” Jensen whimpered as Jared’s hole visibly clenched, fluttering in anticipation.

“Better do more than look.” Between his thighs, Jared’s cock was dark red and leaking.

Jensen leaned down to suck it into his mouth at the same time as he worked two fingers into Jared, thrusting gently to spread the lube around.

Jared threw his head back on a loud groan. “Jesus, fuck!”

Jensen hummed around Jared’s dick―he _loved_ the spurt of salt and musk, loved the way Jared filled his mouth. Scissoring his fingers, Jensen worked his husband open, then added a third finger and delved for Jared’s prostate.

That won him a strangled yelp and fingers clenching in his hair, pulling him off of Jared’s cock.

“Too close,” Jared gasped. “Wanna come with you inside me.”

Jensen shifted forward on his knees, lining himself up. “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

Jared writhed, eyes pleading. “Ready, I’m ready. Please, Jensen.”

Jensen squeezed a bit more lube on his hand and palmed his dick, then slid into Jared’s ass in one slow, unrelenting thrust. All the breath punched out of his lungs at the tight heat, quivering around him, the pleasure zinging through his body. “Oh fuck, Jay,” he breathed.

He held the position for one, two, three breaths, then moved over his husband to rest on his elbows, their chests heaving together. Jensen palmed Jared’s cheek with his clean hand, the caress covetous and reassuring all at once as he gazed deeply into Jared’s eyes. “Jared…” he whispered, struggling with the magnitude of what he felt for this man.

Jared’s eyes gleamed, knowing, reflecting the same emotion back at Jensen. “Now, Jensen.” He rocked his hips, drawing Jensen in deeper.

Jensen thrusted into Jared, slow and hard.

They groaned in harmony with each other. Jensen set a steady pace, slow drag out, sharp thrust in, eyes rapt on Jared’s face as his husband bit his lip and gasped, pink flushing over his olive skin.

Jared threw his head back and whined. “God, Jen, yeah, right there!”

Jensen leaned down to mouth at the moles on Jared’s neck. “Is that the spot, baby?”

“Ungh, you know it is, fuck…”

Jared slithered his hand down between them to stroke himself, but Jensen caught his wrist. He brought his hand back up next to his head and thrust in harder, picking up speed. “Wanna make you come just from my cock. Wanna feel you shatter around me.”

“Oh, fuck,” Jared breathed. His entire body tightened, shivered.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?” Jensen mouthed at Jared’s ear and dropped his voice to a low, gravelly rumble as he rocked in at a slightly steeper angle.

Jared bucked beneath him, body jolting, eyes clenched shut as the tendons stood out on his neck. “Jeeeeennnn…. Unnnfgh…”

Fucking _Christ_ , that was hot. This was exactly how Jensen wanted Jared, right on the edge. “You’re gonna come for me, Jared.”

Jared just whimpered and slammed his hips up, his channel clenching around Jensen.

“Yeah, you’re gonna come for me… right… about… now.”

Jared shuddered and bowed beneath him, howling as he shattered apart, splattering his stomach and Jensen’s chest.

Jensen could smell his release, the sharp musk of it, the scent of sex and love and Jared, and a possessive fire caromed through his body, setting off the fuse of his own orgasm deep in his spine. Jared was still flexing and clenching around him, shaking with the aftershocks. His eyes opened then, blown lust-black with green rims, and Jensen was snared, unable to look away.

“Jensen,” Jared whispered, and that was it. Jensen’s climax roared over him, whiting out his vision and lighting explosions in his brain. Jared pulled Jensen’s mouth down to his for a kiss, swallowing Jensen’s whimpers as he rode the pleasure out, sharp and burning until it gradually faded to a throb.

Jensen lay panting, collapsed onto Jared’s chest. Jared’s legs fell back to the bed, knees akimbo, and he stroked his fingers along Jensen’s spine. “Wow.”

“Wow is an understatement,” Jensen said.

Jared grinned at him, teeth flashing white in the morning sunlight. “I love you.”

Jensen kissed him, gentle strokes of tongues and lips, soft rasp of morning stubble, and it was perfect. “Love you, too.” He gently detached himself from Jared’s body, and rolled off in search of a washrag. He wet down one of the hotel hand towels and wiped his chest, wet the rag again, then returned to the bed to clean Jared up.

“Mmm, thank you.” Jared took the towel from him to finish the job, then tossed it across the room.

Jensen slid back under the covers and curled himself around his husband, resting his head on Jared’s chest. Jared looped his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and began walking his fingers down Jensen’s spine.

“I still miss the dreams, though.” Jared’s voice was soft and rough.

Jensen shifted so he could hear Jared’s heartbeat. “Yeah, I do, too.”

“I was thinking back over the last few years, and every time the dreams fritzed out, it was because you were stressed, or I was stressed, or both. When you were preparing for your dissertation defense. When I was finishing my senior portfolio. When you were nominated for the Lammy and had to do the book tour, right before we met.”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“It happened before we met, too. I remember when your parents kicked you out. The dreams went odd then―they didn’t go away, but I couldn’t really connect to you, or you didn’t seem to know I was there.”

Jensen thought back to that time, when the entire footing of his life fell apart, and the emotional turmoil of it. “I think I knew you were there, deep down, but I was too consumed with how furious I was to be able to see past it.”

“And lately, we’ve both been really stressed―you with the interview and your class load this quarter, and then your dad, and me with work and the _Obsidian_ submission―so it was a double whammy.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “But we can’t expect to have a stress-free life. Shit’s gonna happen, we’re gonna have disagreements, we’re going to have to deal with major life events that are stressful. So even if the dreams do come back, and there’s no guarantee they will, they’ll probably go away again at some point.”

Jared hitched a breath. “I know that, logically, I know. But I can’t help but want them back. They’re how I met you. They’re why we’re together.”

Longing twanged in Jensen’s chest. He felt exactly the same way―he desperately hoped they would dream together again, that the dreams were not gone permanently. It would be devastating to both of them if the dreams never returned. “I know,” he said, propping his chin on Jared’s chest so he could look Jared in the face. He hoped he sounded more reassuring than he felt. “But we can’t force them. We have to stop worrying about it. If we keep stressing over the dreams not happening, they’ll keep not happening.”

Jared frowned and rolled onto his side, arm extending under Jensen’s head so he could look Jensen in the eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“Let’s just focus on getting through the rest of this visit, and go home and relax. Let’s concentrate on talking when we’re awake like we do when we dream together, and once we’ve settled into our new routine, I bet you the dreams will come right back.”

Jared’s lips firmed into a determined smile. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Jensen said with more enthusiasm than he felt. He hoped he was right, anyway.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Jared asked. “When are we supposed to be over at your parents’ place?”

“Whenever. I figured after lunch like we did yesterday. Only Josh won’t be there to mediate this time, but after yesterday, I think it will be okay with just us. Mom still wants us to stay for dinner.”

“You up for that?” Jared’s eyebrows cinched together.

“Probably. I’ll see how things go this afternoon. We should take a nice shirt, just in case, though. We always dressed up for dinner.”

“Alright. That means we have time for breakfast and a visit to the gym, then, doesn’t it?”

“Yup. That sounds brilliant, actually.” A run on the treadmill would definitely help Jensen pound away the stress of the weekend.

Jared rolled off the bed, and Jensen ogled his firm backside for a long moment before getting up to join him.

  


Jensen stood next to Jared in his parents’ living room while his mother bustled in the kitchen making coffee. The house smelled of onion and garlic, roast chicken and potatoes that his mother had baking in the oven for the dinner she had planned that evening. Jensen had flashes of memory: family dinners, large, formal spreads on fine china, sparkling apple juice, his mother’s incredible cooking.

It was a completely different atmosphere now from the previous day. Maybe it was because of the incredible sex he and Jared’d had that morning. Maybe it was because of the way both his parents had apologized to him the day before. Maybe it was because he felt more connected to Jared now than he had in months because they finally _talked_ to each other. Maybe it was a combination of all of the above. Whatever the reason, Jensen felt like he was bordering on contentedness. He wasn’t in shock anymore, and while he and his parents had a long way to go, he now figured they’d get there eventually.

His mother was humming softly to herself in the kitchen, and Jensen smiled as the memories flowed over him, the way she would sing hymnals in the kitchen as she cooked and baked. Jensen and Mac would gripe that she was singing “old person songs” and team up with a rendition of whatever pop or country song was popular at the time. His mother would just smirk at them and continue the contest with another oldie. Sometimes his father would come into the kitchen and dance with her as she sang.

“Now I see where you got your voice,” Jared said as he stepped up behind Jensen, his arm sliding around Jensen’s waist.

Jensen quirked his lips as he tilted his head to give Jared access to his neck, welcoming the soft kiss.

“Jensen always had perfect pitch,” came his father’s voice from the hall. “Mac did, too.”

Jensen and Jared turned around together, Jensen making a conscious effort to not break their embrace.

Alan was shuffling down the hall toward them, still with a marked limp.

Jensen moved to help, but Alan held up a hand. “I got it, son. Gotta practice this myself if I want to get better.”

Nodding, Jensen relaxed back into Jared’s chest. He still had to restrain himself from leaping over to help his father sit down, particularly when Alan let out a grunt of pain as he lowered himself into his recliner.

“Ah, that’s better.” Alan smiled up at him. “I’ll probably need help getting out of it, though. This chair is comfy, but it will swallow you if you let it.”

“Heh, alright. Fair enough.” Jensen took in his father, still somewhat amazed at how he’d changed so much in the last ten years, and how he was still exactly the same. Alan looked better today than he had yesterday—less fatigued, more color in his face. Jensen was profoundly relieved.

Donna came into the living room with a tray of mugs, setting them on the coffee table. She handed Alan a mug of herbal tea, the string from the teabag dangling below the handle, and Jensen blinked in surprise. Back when he was in high school, she had never settled for less than a full, proper tea service. She really had relaxed in the last ten years.

It was exactly like yesterday, only not at all. Gone was the tension he’d been feeling the day before, and it seemed both of his parents were more relaxed, too.

“Will you be staying for dinner?” Donna asked. “Josh, Stephanie, and the kids will be here a bit later, and Mac is coming over, too. I’m making roast chicken.”

“Yeah, Mom, we’ll stay,” Jensen answered.

“It smells delicious,” Jared added. “Can’t wait.”

“So,” Alan said as Donna sat down near him on the sofa. “We’ve kept up with your lives through Josh and Mac as much as we could, but that’s not enough. Tell us about you.”

“We want to know the man you’ve become, Jensen,” his mother added with a hopeful expression. “And the man you’ve married.”

Beside him, Jared shifted on his feet and pulled him over to the sofa.

Sitting down, Jensen reached for a coffee mug and the creamer. “Well, it’s hard to know where to start. There’s a lot to cover in ten years.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable sharing with us,” Alan said.

He stirred a dollop of half and half into his coffee, thinking. “I teach English, Literature, and Creative Writing at UCLA, among other classes.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “And how do you like teaching?”

“A lot more than I thought I would, to be honest,” Jensen replied. “I swear, those kids teach me just as much if not more than I teach them.”

“What classes do you teach?” his father asked.

“It varies by the semester. Sometimes it’s basic English 101, more advanced literature study courses, creative writing courses.” He paused, then decided that he wasn’t going to protect his parents’ sensibilities or hide anything about himself. “…Gay and lesbian literature, feminist literature, queer studies.”

His mother blinked. “Oh. I didn’t realize they had classes like that.” She sounded surprised, confused.

“There’s a whole LGBT studies program at UCLA,” Jared said. “You can minor or major in it.”

“The English/Lit department coordinates with the LGBT studies department fairly extensively, actually,” Jensen continued, curious about how his parents were going to take this. “I’m on the English/Lit faculty, but I am adjunct faculty to the LGBT program.”

His mother still looked confused. “There’s a whole program in… gay studies? Enough for a major? What on earth do you actually study in those classes?”

“Donna!” his father hissed.

Jensen sighed and shared a resigned glance with Jared. Donna seemed like she genuinely couldn’t fathom why there would need to be a queer studies program. The professor in him bit back a lecture on straight privilege.

“Not that I disapprove or anything,” she rushed to add, obviously sensing that she had just stumbled over a line. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Jensen took a deep breath and told himself not to let her upset him. She hadn’t meant to insult him, and she was trying. “Well, Mom, there are a variety of classes, many of which have to do with studying and deconstructing gender.”

The lines in her forehead scrunched up as she frowned. “What do you mean? Gender is gender. Male, female, one or the other. What’s to deconstruct?”

Jensen shook his head. Seemed his professor side was going to come out to play after all. “No, that’s sex. Sex is physiological. Genetic, X and Y chromosomes. Gender, on the other hand, is cultural. The accepted notions of what women do and what men do, those are cultural gender norms, and they differ depending on what culture you’re looking at.”

Jared jumped in then. “Cultural ideas about acceptable gender roles are at the root of a lot of the prejudice against gays and lesbians. And anyone who goes against the ‘traditional gender role,’ like women who don’t want to marry and have children. Men are supposed to be ‘masculine,’ strong, and dominant, women ‘feminine,’ pretty, chaste, and subservient. There is a lot of pressure to conform to those cultural norms, and when someone doesn’t, like gays and lesbians often don’t, they face prejudice, discrimination, and even violence.”

Jensen didn’t want to get derailed in a discussion of systematic oppression of women and sexual minorities, so he shifted the topic back to his work. “And the LGBT program at UCLA, they study these issues and many other related topics. Feminist and queer theory, looking at the different ideas of gender and sexuality in different cultures, history of the gay and lesbian civil rights movement, public policy as it relates to queer issues, LGBT law and politics.

“See, most of the world operates as if heterosexuality is the default and what is proper, when really it’s only what’s most common on a range of sexual orientations. Because of that, many people who have the privilege of not having to deal with being a minority don’t see what that means for someone who don’t fit into that default, how that impacts their lives and what they have to face daily. So a lot of the LGBT program is studying the world from a queer perspective, not a straight one.”

“Well. That makes sense, now that you’ve explained it,” she said, a look of concentration on her face. “That sounds like some of the things I learned at the PFLAG meetings.”

“We’re both still learning, Jensen,” his father said, clearly trying to rescue his wife. “We may both still make mistakes or ask inappropriate questions, but we are trying.”

Jensen swallowed down the knot of tension in his throat. “I can tell, Dad.”

There was a stretch of awkward silence, and then Alan jumped back into conversation with a change of topic. “So, Jared, what about you? Are you active in the gay community?”

“Yeah. I volunteer at the LGBT center; I teach art classes there.”

“He sometimes ends up a de-facto counselor to gay students.” Jensen smiled over at his husband, pride filling his chest over the work Jared did at the Center.

“And how do you like that?” his father asked, looking curiously over at Jared.

Jared’s entire countenance brightened, eyes sparkling, dimples on display. “I like it a lot, actually. The LGBT center serves the community too, not just students. So I get to teach drawing and painting and gay kids get an outlet. A lot of them use art to work through their feelings, to help them deal with the difficulties of coming out. It’s sort of art therapy sometimes. And at other times, it’s just a bunch of kids hanging out together in a supportive environment and getting covered in paint. It’s great.”

Donna smiled. “It sounds like you find that really rewarding.”

“Yeah, definitely. Jensen pitches in every now and then, but his schedule is a lot busier than mine, so he doesn’t have as much time to volunteer. But it’s great when he does.”

Jensen palmed Jared’s thigh, squeezing. Jared winked at him in reply.

“And you have more time because… you’re still a student?” Alan asked.

“No, I graduated a couple years ago. I…” Jared trailed off, looking over at Jensen with a question in his eyes.

Jensen knew exactly what Jared was thinking, and he shrugged at him to say he was fine with however much information Jared wanted to share. He wasn’t sure if his parents would have a problem with Jared not working, and if they did, he’d be quick to disabuse them of that notion.

Jared gazed at him another moment, then determination settled over his face. “The reason I have more time than Jensen is that I was working part-time at a nearby gym. I worked as a personal trainer and taught different exercise classes. It was something I did through college, and I just kept on there after I graduated because it had a lot of side benefits and gave me a regular paycheck, even if it wasn’t very much compared to Jensen’s income. And in the rest of my time, I work on my paintings and volunteer at the LGBT center.”

“But you said you _were_ working at a gym. You’re not anymore?” Alan asked.

Jared shook his head, frowning. “Actually, I had to quit just before we came out here.”

“Had to? Why?” Jensen’s mother looked concerned.

Jared sat back on the sofa, sighing. “Well, there were some customers who were harassing me and some of the women who work there, and my new boss―she just recently took over running the place―she took the side of the customers rather than her employees. It wasn’t a good work environment anymore. But the final straw was when I needed to take time off to come out here with Jensen. She wouldn’t give me the time. So I quit.”

Jensen squeezed Jared’s thigh again.

“Well, good for you,” Donna said, looking impressed.

Surprised, Jensen had to mentally reassess his opinion of her again when he realized that she wasn’t looking down at Jared for being unemployed.

She continued. “I’m glad that you came here with Jensen. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, and it’s good to know that you support him.”

“Of course I support Jensen. I wouldn’t leave him to do something like this alone.”

Donna exchanged a pleased glance with her husband.

Jared propped his elbows on his knees, letting out a heavy breath. “Now I just need to figure out what I’m going to do. I don’t like not working, and I haven’t sold any paintings for a while, so I have no income right now. I’m definitely not okay with that, so I have to figure out something.”

“I’m perfectly fine with Jared just working on his art, by the way. We can manage a while without his income,” Jensen clarified. He wanted his parents to know that he supported Jared, too.

Jared raised an eyebrow at him. “I know that, but I’m not―” He huffed a laugh, then looked back over at Donna and Alan with a wry twist of his lips. “We’ve had this discussion a few times already, if you can’t tell.”

Jensen’s parents gave them indulgent smiles. “Clearly,” Alan said. “So what are your options?”

Jared blew out a breath as he leaned back, shoulder resting against Jensen’s. “Well, I suppose I have several options. I could probably find a position at another gym.”

Donna frowned. “You don’t look too enthused about that.”

“I take it you don’t want to make being a personal trainer your career?” Alan said.

Jared shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, I don’t mind the work, and it’s rewarding to help people get into shape, but I always saw working at the gym as a way to make a little money during college. It wasn’t ever something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m an _artist_. Not a personal trainer.”

Alan gave a thoughtful hum.

Jared continued before Alan could say anything else. “And even if I did get another gym job, I’d have to make it part-time, because otherwise I won’t have time to paint.”

“I think, at this point in your career, it’s not worth your time for you to waste half your days in a low-paying job,” Alan said. “No, you probably need to be producing a lot of art right now, and getting it in front of as many people as possible.”

Jensen gawped at his father. That was exactly what he thought about it.

Jared frowned, though, and Jensen knew immediately what had crossed his mind.

“Yeah, I was trying to get a show at this really prestigious gallery in Hollywood, but I didn’t get it.”

“It had nothing to do with the quality of your artwork, Jay, and you know it,” Jensen muttered, scowling.

Jared glared at him, giving him a silent _shut up about that!_

“What was it, then?” Donna asked, clearly picking up on the tension in the conversation.

Sighing, Jared’s shoulders slumped. “Well, it turned out that the way to win the show was to… provide ‘special’ favors to the jerk who owns the gallery. And I wasn’t willing to do that.”

Donna’s eyebrows cinched together. “What do you mean, ‘special’ favors?”

Jensen just looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Ever heard of the term ‘casting couch,’ Mom? Or ‘I’ll pat your back if you rub my…fill in the blank here?’”

His mother looked outraged. “That’s appalling!”

Jared nodded. “Yeah. Well, there are other galleries I can try.”

Jared seemed to want to move on from the topic, so Jensen jumped in to help. “Our friend Tom Welling has a small gallery in Pasadena, and he offered to show Jared’s work.”

“Yeah, but his gallery’s for photography, Jensen,” Jared argued.

“He’s shown art before, and you know it,” Jensen shot back.

“It’s worth it as a place to start,” Alan jumped in. “I think that, barring inappropriate situations such as this gallery that wanted you to compromise your integrity and your relationship―”

“And it just proves your integrity that you didn’t agree to such coercion, Jared,” Donna interjected.

“Yes,” Alan agreed. “You shouldn’t turn down an opportunity for a show, even if it’s a small gallery out of the way of a lot of traffic, Jared.”

“That’s what I think,” Jensen said.

Jared’s jaw took on a mulish set as he mulled that over, and then he sighed, conceding the point. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but that doesn’t really solve the problem of a regular income. I’m not gonna just mooch off of you.”

“That’s not a problem, Jared. I wish you’d recognize that. We could go a year without your income and we’d be okay. It’s worth it for you to invest in your artwork.” Jensen was really getting tired of making this point to his husband.

Alan chuckled, his laughter startling Jensen and Jared out of their impending argument.

Donna was grinning at them, her teeth gleaming white in the afternoon sunlight. “Yes, I agree, Alan.”

“What?” Jensen asked, nonplussed.

“You’re like an old married couple,” his father said, smirking.

“It’s adorable,” his mother added.

Jensen took a moment to process that, then felt a smile creep over his face. “Well, we are essentially an old married couple.”

Jared winked at him. “Yeah, given how long we’ve known each other.”

“How long have you been together?” Donna asked.

“Well, we’ve been together for four years, but we’ve known each other longer than that,” Jensen said.

He and Jared had agreed before coming out to Texas that they weren’t going to broach the topic of their dream connection with his parents. At least not this first visit, and maybe not ever. There was no need, for one―Jared’s family had seen his artwork of Jensen all through high school, so they had been essentially forced to explain their shared dreams to show how that was possible. Jensen’s parents, on the other hand, had no prior knowledge of Jared, and therefore no such basis to question how it was possible that they were together. Jared and he had decided they’d just say they met in college and were friends for a few years before they got together.

“Yeah, we met my freshman year,” Jared picked up the story. “Bonded right away about being from Texas.”

“Jared’s from New Braunfels,” Jensen interjected. “And it was pretty much an immediate friendship―it felt almost instantly like we’d known each other all our lives.”

“We got together as a couple my senior year, before Jensen won the Lammy for his book.” Jared was smiling at him again, dimples prominent, his eyes overflowing with affection and pride.

“We bought a house together that fall,” Jensen continued, “and got married―well, technically it was a domestic partnership, but as far as we’re concerned we got married―the next summer.”

It was mostly true, anyway. Or the important parts of it were true. They had known each other all their lives, pretty much. Jensen didn’t know if he’d ever want to tell his parents the entire truth. Maybe, down the road, after they’d earned his trust again. For now, this was good enough.

His mother looked teary-eyed again, which startled Jensen out of his Jared-reverie.

“I’m so sorry we missed it, Jensen. Your wedding. I didn’t know what you’d call it, the ceremony or union, but I see now that obviously it was your wedding. You got married, and we weren’t there to see it.” She grabbed a tissue and wiped her nose. “I hate myself for not waking up sooner. I always wanted to see your wedding, wanted to see you coupled and happy, and it’s to my shame that I couldn’t get past the fact that you didn’t have a bride. Was it a lovely ceremony?”

Jensen swallowed around the sudden knot in his throat. “Well. I had expected you to never come around at all, Mom, so…” He didn’t know how to finish that thought.

“Yes, it was beautiful, Donna,” Jared answered for him. “It was a small ceremony, just a few people―my parents, brother and sister, Jeff’s wife Heather; Mac and Josh and Stephanie were there, too. It was at the Huntington Library―where they have a library, art galleries, and botanical gardens. It was sort of perfect for us, actually, with Jensen being a writer and me an artist. We held the ceremony in the Japanese garden―it was gorgeous―and then had the reception afterward in our back yard.”

“Tom did our photos,” Jensen said, feeling warm as he remembered the joy of that day. “We can send you copies, if you want.”

His mother nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

“There are some pictures up on my Facebook page,” Jared said. “I’ll show you later if you’d like.”

“That would be nice.”

“We knew about it; Mac told us.” His father’s voice was sad. “She gave us a right earful about not going. I’ll always regret not being there to see you get married, son. I’m sorry.”

Jensen just looked down at his hand, his fingers laced with Jared’s, and thumbed over Jared’s wedding ring.

“Well, if they ever legalize gay marriage,” Jared said, forcedly cheerful, “we just might have another ceremony.”

Jensen’s gaze shot to meet his husband’s eyes. They hadn’t actually talked about this before. But he knew they would do it―the instant they could actually get married, they would, not that it would make any difference in their relationship. He’d even entertained thoughts of going to Boston―Danneel had asked him a number of times about moving there to be closer to his publisher, and to her and Riley. But he’d never seriously considered leaving Los Angeles.

“That’s a big if,” he said. “I don’t know if that will ever happen, or how long it will take for the country to establish marriage equality, but if it does, then yes, we may have another ceremony. You’d be welcome to attend then.”

“We’d love that, Jensen,” Alan said, then looked at Jared again. “Jared, we were talking about your work prospects earlier. Have you thought about showing your portfolio to the art departments at the studios? I know the television and movie studios always have need for good artists for their props and set designs, not to mention graphic artists.”

Jared blinked, and Jensen shared his bolt of surprise. That wasn’t something he’d thought of, though now it seemed patently obvious and it was astounding that they hadn’t already considered it when they lived in Los Angeles.

“No, but that’s a really good idea,” Jared said.

“Thank you. Take your friend Tom up on his offer, too. It can’t hurt anything, and you never know who might see your work. You also said you teach art classes at the LGBT center, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s volunteer work.”

“Any chance you could turn it into a paid position? Or look into doing something similar at other places, community centers? Talk to school districts.”

“Jared did get a minor in education,” Jensen added.

“Yes, so that’s an option as well.” Alan smiled encouragingly. “You could also talk to smaller community colleges, two-year technical colleges. You often don’t need advanced degrees to teach at places such as those. And you could approach some of the non-profit LGBT political organizations. They use artists for designing their promotional materials, to decorate their offices and such.”

Jensen felt a wash of appreciation for his father. He knew Alan was trying to make amends, but that didn’t matter really, not when he was giving such practical advice to Jared.

“Thank you, Dad.”

His father looked over at him, an earnest expression on his face. “You’re welcome. I’m not just trying to make things up to you; I really do care about you both.”

Jensen nodded, swallowing down a well of emotion.

“What kind of art do you make, Jared?” Donna asked, changing the topic deftly. “I know you paint, but do you do anything else? Any particular style?”

“I prefer painting, that’s my primary specialty. But I also draw, use pastels and ink, and I sculpt, though I don’t do that as much now that I’m not in school anymore and I don’t have access to the metal working shop or the stone working room. I’ve taken a couple of photography classes, though I really consider myself an amateur photographer. Tom’s a lot better than I am. I can paint in a variety of styles, though I like impressionistic, abstract, and realism best. I can do digital work in Paintshop Pro, but I really prefer working with my hands.”

“We have several of his paintings up at our house,” Jensen added. “Including one he did based on my book.”

Jared gave him a private smile, one dimple curling.

“I’d love to see some of your work,” Donna said. “Maybe if you have something we like we could buy a piece.”

Warmth blossomed across Jensen’s chest as he gaped at his mother.

Jared stammered a few seconds, obviously flustered. “I’d be happy to show you some of my work―I don’t have my portfolio with me, but I have pictures up on my website. But I don’t want you to feel obligated, Donna. Please don’t buy a painting you don’t like just because I’m with Jensen and I’m not working right now.”

Donna scowled at him. “Of course not! We wouldn’t buy something out of _pity_.”

“I’m sorry, Donna, that came out wrong. I just don’t want you to feel obligated, that’s all.” Jared’s face was tomato red.

Donna’s face softened. “I promise, Jared. Only if you have something we really like.”

“Okay,” Jared replied, returning the smile.

A car door slammed outside, then another, and then little feet were tramping up the steps. A moment later, the front door burst open, and Kyle hurtled into the house. “Grandma! We’re here!”

Donna got up to hug her grandson, who immediately caught sight of Jensen and Jared.

“Uncle Jensen! Uncle Jared!”

Jensen barely had time to put his coffee down before he had a lapful of eight-year-old boy sprawling across him and Jared both.

“Hey, Kyle!” Jensen laughed and gave Kyle a high-five.

“How’s it going, little man?” Jared asked, hugging Kyle.

Kyle immediately launched into a long-winded account of his day, and Jensen looked up to see his mother head into the kitchen while Josh and Stephanie came into the house, Claire on Stephanie’s hip.

Josh shot Jensen an inquiring look. _Everything alright?_

Jensen nodded. Yes, for the first time in a long time, he felt like everything was alright with his family. While not entirely back to normal, he and Jared were in much better shape now that they’d talked, and Jensen hoped it was just a matter of time until they dreamed together again. So yeah, he was alright.

Stephanie and Josh came into the living room, followed shortly by Mackenzie, stuffing her car keys in her purse.

Jensen shuffled out from under Kyle. “I need to go talk to your Aunt Mac for a minute.” He hadn’t seen her since he found out the previous day about her war on their parents on his behalf.

Mac was in the process of shrugging out of her jacket when Jensen swooped her up into a huge hug.

“Oof! Hi, Jen, nice to see you too!” She chuckled when Jensen didn’t let her go. “Jensen?”

“Mac, I need to thank you,” he whispered into her ear.

“What for?”

Jensen touched his forehead to hers. “You know what for.”

Her green eyes softened, and she gave him a bright, genuine smile. “You’re my big brother, Jensen,” she said, as if that explained it. “I love you, doofus.”

“I love you, too, sis.” He hugged her again, squeezing tight. “You’re amazing.”

She grinned against his cheek. “Of course I am! I’m the best sister in the world, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe you tricked Mom into a PFLAG meeting, you little shit.”

Mac broke into full giggles in his arms. “That was pretty epic. You should have seen the look on her face. But she stuck with it, so that’s all her.”

“True. But still. Thank you, Mac.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“Everyone wash up for dinner,” his mother called from the kitchen. “We’ll be eating in about ten minutes.”

Jensen let his sister go and went back into the living room to help his father clamber out of his recliner. “Thanks, Jensen, I got it from here,” Alan said once he was on his feet, patting Jensen’s shoulder.

When Jensen entered the kitchen, he found his mother and Stephanie moving the chicken and vegetables from the pot to a serving dish. Jared was helping Josh set the table, and while they were using the formal china, it was clear his mother was taking a much more relaxed approach to this dinner than she had in the past. She hadn’t even asked them to put on a nice shirt.

Mac pulled out a large bowl of salad from the refrigerator, and Kyle barreled past him to wash his hands in the sink.

Jensen watched his family bustle around each other, and he marveled at the domesticity he’d never expected to feel again.

His _family._

  


After supper was cleaned up, and Mac and Josh and his family had gone home, Jensen and Jared were sprawled sideways across the bench seat on the back porch, Jensen nested between Jared’s legs, back resting on Jared’s chest. It was cold out, and they’d draped a blanket over themselves. His mother and father were still inside; Donna had received a phone call right as they stepped out onto the porch.

Jensen was mostly trying to become accustomed to this new equilibrium. He was glad he and Jared were on better footing now. It made it easier to navigate the rapids of his family. The wine they’d had with dinner was also helping, and Jensen felt truly content and relaxed in his parents’ house for the first time since he was a teenager.

“You doing alright?” he asked Jared, running his hand over Jared’s forearm.

Jared’s nose brushed Jensen’s ear. “Yeah. Dinner was great. Your mom’s an awesome cook.”

Jensen hummed, knew he had a lazy, satiated expression on his face. He’d missed his mom’s cooking. “Yeah, she is. Always likes to put on a big, formal spread.”

The back door opened, and Alan stepped out. He was still limping slightly, favoring his right hip. He sat down gingerly on one of the patio chairs, then gave them a reassuring smile.

“Your mother’s on the phone with her sister.”

Jensen blinked. “Aunt Karen?”

“Yeah, so she’s going to be a while. She’s telling Karen all about your visit.”

Jensen’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t talked to anyone in his extended family since he left home ten years ago. He didn’t want to give anyone else the opportunity to reject him, and no one had attempted to get in touch with him, not that he was aware of, at least. He figured none of them had objected to him leaving. “Oh. How is Aunt Karen?”

“She’s fine. She’s been a good support to your mom over the last year. She was in favor of us getting back in touch with you, and she knows how emotionally trying this has been for Donna. Your mom’s in there crying on her shoulder right now. Happy tears,” he added.

“Oh.” That was something Jensen had to get used to, as well. His mother hadn’t ever been so weepy when he was younger. “Mom’s softened a lot, hasn’t she?”

Alan nodded. “It’s good for her that you’re back, Jensen. She’s missed you. We’ve both missed you. And it was good for us to realize that we were the ones who needed to apologize to you, not the other way around. It was pretty humbling, actually.”

Jared’s arms squeezed slightly around Jensen’s chest. Jensen nudged him in response, shifting a little on the bench to see his father better. “How are you doing, Dad? Outside of the heart attack?”

Alan hummed. “Things have been really good, actually. Work has been lucrative lately, I shaved three strokes off my handicap, and I’m not having trouble peeing anymore. Don’t have to run to the bathroom every five minutes like a pregnant woman…”

Jensen raised his eyebrows at his father.

“Oh, yes, I forgot you wouldn’t know about that,” Alan said.. “Well, it’s an embarrassing story, but I really should explain it to you, now that I think about it.”

“What’s that?”

Alan gave a nervous little laugh. “Well, this is something I would normally not discuss, but Jared is family now, and I need you to understand something, so…” He took a breath. “Back about January, I started having a lot of pain and difficulty urinating. I’d have to run for a toilet every few minutes, and then I’d only be able to get out a little dribble.”

“Uh, Dad, I’m not sure I need to hear all the details on this.”

“Yes, you do, Jensen.” His father’s voice was unexpectedly stern. “You need to know this to understand what I have to tell you. I know it’s embarrassing, it is for me, too, but it’s important, or I wouldn’t be talking about it at all. So just let me get through it all, please.”

“Alright.” A conversation about painful urination didn’t amount to anything remotely as difficult as everything else he and his father had discussed during this visit, so Jensen sat back to listen.

Alan looked out on the backyard as he resumed speaking. “Your mom eventually made me go to the doctor when it got really bad. Good thing she did, too, because it turned out I had an enlarged prostate.”

Jensen caught Jared’s shocked eyes across his shoulder. Jared seemed to have no idea how to respond to this conversation, so Jensen just rubbed his arm, silently telling him to just keep listening.

Alan continued. “The doctor put me on medication, which helped a little bit, but it didn’t clear the problem up entirely. So the next step was prostate massage, and if that didn’t work, they’d have to remove it.”

Jensen could feel his face starting to flush. Prostate _massage_? He cleared his throat nervously as he tried to figure out where his father was going with this. He still couldn’t believe his father was talking about something so private.

Alan glanced over at him, obviously discomfited. “You okay, Jensen?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Jensen said. He waved at his dad to continue.

Alan was silent for a long minute, during which Jensen could see him wringing his hands. “Well, at first the doc expected me to come in so he could do… it… manually.”

A strangled noise escaped Jensen’s throat. He wouldn’t be comfortable with that idea, so he could imagine how his father felt about it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” his father said, scowl etched in his voice. “That was not an option, as far as I was concerned, particularly after he said it might make me…” He trailed off, very obviously embarrassed, and made a suggestive gesture with his hand. “Right there in the doctor’s office.”

Jensen’s shoulders hitched up just at the thought.

“So I asked if there were any other options. He told me to try this prostate massage tool called the Aneros. Apparently it’s sold as a sex toy, too.”

“Oh my god,” Jared burst out behind him. “We have a couple of those! They’re _awesome_.”

Jensen would forever deny the squeak he made as he palmed his face. “Jared!” He really did _not_ want to think about any part of their sex life right now.

“Sorry, Jen,” Jared whispered, lips brushing his ear. Jensen could feel Jared’s skin heating up and knew his husband was bright red.

Alan tittered, then cleared his throat. “Well, I guess you know what I’m referring to, then. It was really odd at first. But I figured it was this little plastic toy or my doctor’s fingers up my ass, so I went with the toy. It took me a while to get the hang of it. And I won’t say it wasn’t awkward and painful at first, but the doctor told me to use it every other night for a month, and if that didn’t noticeably help, he’d have to do it himself. So I kept at it, and I won’t go into detail about it with you—”

“Too late for that, Dad,” Jensen muttered, giving an awkward chuckle.

“I could be more detailed if you’d like,” Alan shot back, eyebrow raised.

Jared and Jensen simultaneously blurted, “NO!”

“No, that’s plenty of detail,” Jensen assured. “We’re following you.”

Alan smirked, clearly amused by their reactions. “At any rate, you know how it feels. After a couple of weeks, it became gradually easier for me to use the bathroom. And as my prostate got… better… it started to feel really good, and I started having the… most intense orgasms of my life.”

Jensen knew his face had to be flaming red by now, and he found himself biting back a grin. _Christ_. “What happened to not going into detail?”

Alan gave him a sharp look. “I am telling you this for a reason, Jensen.”

“There is no reason I needed to know _that_.”￼

“The _reason_ that I’m telling you this is because it was that moment that I finally _understood_. I’d worked through a lot of my baggage about you being gay at that time. I’d already had a number of conversations with John, and your mother and I had agreed we would accept your sexuality without trying to change you. But there was still this part of me, I’m ashamed to admit, that thought it was gross. I couldn’t imagine anal sex would ever be anything but painful, and I had this stumbling block in my head about that. For the longest time. I hated that you were hurting yourself that way, Jensen.”

Jensen scrubbed his hand across his face, torn between mortification and being oddly… moved. He’d had no idea that underneath all the disgust and revulsion about him being homosexual was a genuine worry about him being hurt. It didn’t make the things Alan said to him back then any less awful, but now Jensen could see deeper than the insults. Somehow, that made a difference; he wasn’t sure how or what, exactly, but it changed how he saw those memories.

He still wished his father could have found a different way to explain it, though. And definitely without mentioning _orgasms_.

His father continued even as Jensen was having his realization. “Because that’s how I thought of it. Even after I’d come to the conclusion that it was alright for you to be gay, even after I’d accepted it, I still thought you were hurting yourself. But that was _before_.

“After I used the Aneros, I realized I was wrong. You weren’t hurting yourself. I realized that anal sex could be pleasurable. And I let go of that last bit of baggage, and I felt like I finally understood you. For your mother, your book and your interview on Oprah were the things that got her to accept you fully and without reservation. For me, it was the Aneros.

“And I just need to apologize, Jensen. I said some appalling, _horrible_ things to you before you left. Things no man should ever say to his son. Those words were based on my misperceptions about gay sex, and I was wrong. I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am, Jensen. I don’t need to know what happens between you and Jared. Just knowing that it’s healthy, that it’s pleasurable, that you love each other is enough. I hope you can forgive me someday.”

Jensen wiped at his face, glad his cheeks were dry because he halfway felt like crying. He… didn’t know what to say. “Well… I’m working on it, Dad.”

Alan smiled at him. “That’s all I need.”

Jared squeezed him, and Jensen just let his head fall onto Jared’s shoulder. Silence spread across the porch, and it wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely strained.

Silence fell over the porch, echoing uncomfortably, and after a long minute, Jared jumped in to fill the quiet with a high-pitched chuckle. “Well, regular prostate massage is known to be good preventative measure against prostate problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if it helps ward off prostate cancer. I wonder if gay men have a lower incidence of prostate cancer, actually…” His voice was speculative and wavering slightly as the words spilled out in a rush. “It’s an amazing organ, I think,” he continued, well into rambling mode. His hands were even starting to move as he talked. “Some men can have orgasms from prostate stimulation alone―which feels _really good_. It tells me that we’re designed to be able to enjoy anal sex. Which means it isn’t unnatural.”

Jensen’s father gave a strained hum. “Yeah, I can see that now.”

Jensen buried his face in his hands again. “Jared, shut up,” he whispered.

“Er, yeah. Sorry. Shutting up now.”

Jensen could feel Jared’s heart beating faster, and with a glance over his shoulder saw that Jared’s face had turned the color of a plum.

They all just gaped at each other for what felt like a month, and then a guffaw exploded out of Jensen. He couldn’t stop it from morphing into outright giggles, because… _Oh, god_ … This was… probably the most insane conversation he’d ever been a part of.

A few seconds later, Jared joined in the laughter, followed almost immediately by Alan.

Jensen laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe and his stomach hurt, so hard that he knew he had tears streaming down his cheeks, and he felt the stress of the last few days simply vaporize in the wake of it. Seriously, he’d never, _ever_ in a million years imagined he’d be talking with his _father_ and Jared about the joys of prostate stimulation. It was ludicrous, and it healed so many old wounds in his heart that he had to just let it out.

Wiping his eyes, Jensen wheezed in a breath. In his chair, his father had removed his glasses and was doing the same.

Gradually the levity passed, and they settled into silence again. Only this time it wasn’t uncomfortable.

A few minutes later, the glass door opened and Donna stepped out onto the porch. “It sounds like you boys are having a good time out here.”

Jensen barely managed to stop himself from chortling.

“Something like that, yes,” his father said, voice a little strangled.

Donna sat down on the chair next to Alan. “Good, I’m glad. So you’re going home tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “Flight’s at noon. We won’t have to get up really early, but we won’t have time to do much of anything before we head out.”

“Yeah. We’re just going to have breakfast at the hotel and then go straight to the airport. We still have to finish packing tonight, actually,” Jared said.

Jensen looked at his watch. It was nearing 9:00, and if they wanted to get packed and in bed by a reasonable hour, they should probably head out.

Looking back at his parents, Jensen could see the resignation on their faces. “We should probably go,” he said, sitting up and folding the blanket.

Behind him Jared hummed in agreement, also moving to get up.

His mother met him with a hug as soon as Jensen got to his feet. “I’m so glad you came, Jensen. I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she clung to him.

“I’m glad we came, too, Mom. This was good.”

She pulled back with a quiver to her lips. “I wish you could stay longer.”

Jensen didn’t―he needed some time to himself to work through the emotions this weekend had dug up, but he appreciated her sentiment. He smiled instead, the expression feeling natural on his face. “We have to get back.”

“I know, you have your life now, and I’m so proud of you. Just don’t stay away for very long.”

“You guys should come out and visit us,” Jared said.

Looking around, Jensen saw Jared helping Alan to his feet, shaking his hand. He nodded his thanks to his husband, who smiled back at him. “Yeah, Mom. Dad. You’d be welcome to come visit, if you want.” Before this trip he’d never imagined saying that to his parents. Now, it felt _good_. He was truly happy he could make that offer now.

Donna moved to give Jared a hug. “Thanks for taking care of him, Jared. I hope to see you again soon.”

“You’re welcome, Donna. It was great to meet you. Thanks for inviting us. Dinner was _amazing_.”

Jensen wrapped his father in an embrace. He couldn’t find words, so he just squeezed tighter.

“I love you, son,” Alan said, returning the hug with equal ferocity. His voice was lower, gravelly with emotion.

Jensen’s throat tightened up again. He wasn’t quite ready to return the sentiment, but felt the need to give his father something. “Thanks, Dad. Um, me too.”

His father let go of him after a moment, his blue eyes watery. He palmed Jensen’s cheek, and then patted his shoulder. “You boys travel safe. Call us when you get home to let us know you made it okay.”

“Alright, will do. You get better, Dad. No more heart attacks.” _Now that I’ve got you back in my life, I don’t want you to leave it too soon_ , he didn’t say.

“I’ll make sure of it,” his mother said, looping her arm around Alan’s waist. “Just… keep in touch, please.”

“We will,” Jensen promised. “You’ve got our email addresses now, and our phone numbers. We’ll make plans to see each other again soon.”

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Love you boys.”

“You too, Mom.” That spiky knot was back in his throat.

“Alright, let’s go pack.” Jared fished his hand into Jensen’s jacket pocket for the car keys. Jensen figured it was probably a good idea for Jared to drive. He needed to think.

“See you.” Jensen waved as he stepped off the porch, Jared right behind him.

His parents just waved back at them.

They walked around the side of the house to the rental car, and Jared stopped him when he reached the passenger door. Wrapping his arms around Jensen, Jared kissed him softly.

Jensen didn’t care that they were in public. It was dark, and they were leaving anyway. He squeezed Jared’s arms and got into the car.

As they drove away from his parents’ house, Jensen smiled, a sense of completion he’d never felt before flowing over him. He had his parents _back_.

  



	7. Epilogue

  


> _A breeze whispers across Jensen’s face, tickling his lashes. Opening his eyes, he sees he’s sitting on a park bench. It’s sunny; cotton-puff clouds drift across the bright blue sky, the birch trees susurrating softly in the wind. It’s pleasantly warm but not hot―feels like early summer. In front of him is a sandbox edged with railroad ties._
> 
> _It’s_ the _sandbox, he realizes suddenly. The sandbox he first saw Jared in, all those years ago._
> 
> _Jensen’s heart stumbles in his chest, and then skips into a fast trot. This is a_ dream _, their dream, a_ shared _dream. He whips his head around, looking for Jared. Now that he knows he’s dreaming, he can feel it, the tug in his chest that orients him to his husband. He feels like he’s going to crack wide open and shine with blazing relief. He had started to worry they might not dream together again. But when he spots Jared near the jungle gym on the other side of the park, when their eyes meet and a brilliant smile lights up Jared’s face as the wind plays with his hair, Jensen knows that this part of them, this soul-deep connection between them, is permanent._
> 
> _It’s been over two months now since they’ve shared a dream, and Jensen never wants to go that long without it again._
> 
> _Jared strides towards him across the grass, long legs eating the distance between them quickly. Jensen launches up from the bench to meet him halfway, and the instant he can touch his husband, he brings their mouths together without a word said. Jared hums as their tongues caress; Jensen cards his fingers into Jared’s hair as Jared’s palms slide up his back beneath his t-shirt. He’s shaking like he’s just finished a triathlon and collapsed in Jared’s arms at the finish line._
> 
> _“Oh my god, Jensen,” Jared gasps as they break apart. “I can’t believe it. I was so scared the dreams had stopped for good.”_
> 
> _Jensen finger-combs Jared’s hair, smoothing out the tangles he’d put in while they were kissing. “I know, I was worried, too. But I think I understand it now, Jared.” He tugs Jared over to sit on the park bench with him._
> 
> _“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?” Jared nuzzles into Jensen’s ear._
> 
> _Jared can’t seem to stop touching him, and Jensen frankly doesn’t mind at all. He shifts until he has one knee resting over Jared’s lap, his torso turned sideways so he can see Jared’s face better. The sunlight is making the green flecks in Jared’s hazel eyes more prominent, and Jensen can’t help but smile as he strokes a finger along his husband’s jaw, dipping into a dimple._
> 
> _“The dreams are a part of who we are,” he says. “They’re never going to disappear permanently, I know that now. But we can’t take them for granted anymore. We just assumed we’d always have the dreams, and as a result, we aggravated the situation because we weren’t really talking with each other and just stressed ourselves out more.”_
> 
> _Jared purses his lips, thoughtful. “It makes sense that they’ve come back now, when you think about it. You’ve started a reconciliation with your parents; the hard part of that is over. Your dad is going to be okay, and he and your mom both apologized and said they love you. That’s huge. And I finally told you what I was going through at work and with the Obsidian show. Just getting it off my chest helped so much, and then we made plans to deal with it. We’ve each resolved the major thing that was stressing us out.”_
> 
> _“Yeah, and now that we’ve relaxed, the dreams snap right back into place.”_
> 
> _“We can’t let this happen again.” Jared’s face sobers. “I know we talked about it this morning, but we have to promise to keep our talking dates, like we planned.”_
> 
> _Jensen palms both sides of Jared’s neck, looking directly into his eyes. “We’re going to keep our dates, Jared. We will be able to communicate outside of the dreams.”_
> 
> _Jared rests his forehead against Jensen’s, closing his eyes. “Yes, we will.”_
> 
> _Jensen caresses Jared’s cheek with his nose, and kisses him again. He doesn’t let it deepen this time, but instead he presses his lips along Jared’s jaw up to his ear._
> 
> _Jared shivers and leans closer. “But what are we going to occupy our dream time with, then? If we’re talking when we’re awake?” His voice has gone breathy._
> 
> _Jensen smiles as he nibbles Jared’s earlobe. “We can still talk in the dreams, as long as we’re doing the bulk of it outside of them. And I’m sure we can find some way to occupy our time here. We can always do what did we did back when we were teenagers.”_
> 
> _Jared gives Jensen a mischievous grin and affects a higher, teenaged voice. “What, you mean do our homework sprawled out on my bed back at Mom’s house?”_
> 
> _Jensen’s unable to hold back the guffaw that bursts out of him. “Not exactly what I had in mind, no.”_
> 
> _“Oh, then you were talking about how we would fuck each other’s brains out?” Jared’s hazel eyes darken as he licks his lips._
> 
> _Jensen bites his lip, eyes focused on the line of Jared’s neck. “Now you’re getting it.”_
> 
> _“I approve of this idea.” Jared grasps Jensen’s jaw and tilts his head back so he can lave moist, open mouthed kisses down Jensen’s throat._
> 
> _“Oh… yeah, Jay.” Jared’s tongue must be wired directly to Jensen’s dick, the way it burns through him when Jared licks the muscles of his throat. He wants Jared’s tongue all over him, everywhere._
> 
> _Blue and white and green warp around them, and suddenly they’re in Jared’s painting studio back home. Jensen is sitting on Jared’s work table, Jared standing between Jensen’s knees. He blinks at the shift of scenery, then smiles. Jared must have something particular in mind._
> 
> _“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do to you.” Jared tugs on Jensen’s clothes._
> 
> _Jensen pulls his shirt over his head and undoes his pants. “What’s that?”_
> 
> _Jared helps him shimmy out of his pants and underwear, tossing his clothes onto the floor. He quickly shucks his own clothes, then dives back into kiss Jensen again. “Paint you,” he murmurs between their lips._
> 
> _Jensen wraps his legs around Jared’s waist and rocks their groins together. Unnffgh. He’s fully hard now, and he loves the silken glide of Jared’s cock against his. “You’ve painted me plenty of times.”_
> 
> _“Not like this, I haven’t.” Jared pushes on Jensen’s shoulders, rolling him down onto the table and pushing his arms over his head. Jensen allows it, arching his back when it contacts the cool surface of the table. “It would be quite impractical to do this with actual paints,” Jared says as he maps Jensen’s torso with his palms, fingers tickling over his ribs and nipples. “But here, here I can do anything I want.”_
> 
> _“Ungh, yeah, anything you want.” Jensen trusts his husband so completely here that he doesn’t even need to know what Jared’s talking about. Whatever it is, it will feel good, and it will be them deeply together, and Jensen wants it, wants_ Jared _. “Just keep touching me.”_
> 
> _“Oh, I will.” He reaches over and grabs his stool, and then his brushes and a tub of paint._
> 
> _Jensen suddenly knows where Jared’s going with this, and just the thought of it fires goosebumps all over his skin._
> 
> _Jared props one of Jensen’s legs up on the back of the stool, the other over his shoulder, and he bends over to lick across Jensen’s sternum. “Every time I’ve drawn or painted you,” he says as he nibbles Jensen’s navel, “I’ve wanted to paint_ on _you, cover you in color.”_
> 
> _Jared opens one of the jars and dips a brush into it. It comes out green. “I want you to feel what I feel when I paint you. Close your eyes.”_
> 
> _Jensen does. Jared is still nestled tightly between his legs, and Jensen can feel the weight of his cock against his own, and he’s desperately tempted to rock his hips to get more friction, more pressure between them._
> 
> _Jared’s left hand curves around Jensen’s hip, holding him still. “Just_ feel _,” he murmurs against Jensen’s ribs._
> 
> _Cool, smooth wetness swipes from just behind his ear down his neck, tracing the line of his throat. Jensen can feel the sable bristles fan across his skin, soft as they follow the edge of his collar bone. The brush disappears for a breathy couple of seconds, then marks the same line on his other side, stopping in the dip of his clavicle and dragging down the center of his chest._
> 
> _“Oh god, Jared.” Jensen’s voice is thick in his throat._
> 
> _Jared hums, a low, pleased rumble in his chest. The sound shoots heat through Jensen._
> 
> _The brush returns, outlining Jensen’s pecs, and then Jared’s fingers join in, smearing more paint along the dips of his ribs. Small dabs and swirls now, the fine bristles spreading across Jensen’s skin in arcs and scallops._
> 
> _“Gorgeous,” Jared says, voice low._
> 
> _Jensen’s entire body feels sensitized, anticipating Jared’s next move, and he cannot keep himself from squirming under his husband’s hand and brush._ Jesus _. He’s sometimes wondered what it would feel like to be Jared’s canvas. Clearly, his imagination holds no candle to reality, because—oh goddamn that feels good—with each stroke of the bristles, each smear of his hands, Jared is winding Jensen tighter and tighter, slowly wringing pleasure out of him as if he is twisting water from a towel._
> 
> _“Fuck, Jay.”_
> 
> _“Soon, Jen. Lemme just do this and then you can do whatever you want to me.” Jared presses his pelvis down into Jensen’s, and they both let out a groan._
> 
> _“God, you’re driving me insane.”_
> 
> _“Mmm, good.”_
> 
> _Without opening his eyes, Jensen knows Jared is smiling. He can feel Jared’s focused intent, his husband’s gaze roving over his body, and a thrill charges through him._
> 
> _The brush moves over the muscles of Jensen’s stomach, dipping into his navel. Jared latches his mouth onto one of Jensen’s nipples, swirling his tongue around the pert nub even as his brush swirls little circles down his happy trail and up the line of his groin._
> 
> _Jensen arches beneath his husband, unable to keep still, hands clenching around the edge of the table to prevent himself from shoving Jared down. “Christ!”_
> 
> _Jared draws the same path on Jensen’s other side, and Jensen can tell that nearly his entire torso is covered in paint, now. It’s warm and moist and Jared’s fingers slide through it, pressing designs into his skin. “Fucking beautiful, Jensen.”_
> 
> _“Jared, I swear…”_
> 
> _Jared chuckles. “Alright, alright. Gotta let it dry now, anyway.”_
> 
> _Jensen lifts up his head and looks down his body as Jared scoots back up between Jensen’s legs again, this time on a chair. Above him, a mirror appears, hanging from the ceiling, and Jensen can see that he has a large, leafy tree painted in abstract on his chest, Van Gogh green and brown and white and yellow. The sight momentarily distracts him from his lust, and he gasps. “Jared… Wow… How did you do that?”_
> 
> _Jared just beams up at him and waggles paint-covered fingers. “Magic, Jensen. See? It’s our husband tree.”_
> 
> _“No wife necessary,” Jensen says, emotion welling up in his chest._
> 
> _Jared’s eyes shine amber at him. “Wish I had a camera. I’ll just have to do this again when we get home. Get some body paints or something.”_
> 
> _The thought of going through this again, for real, sends a frisson of desire through Jensen’s body, and he moans, his lust back on full-blast. “Uh, goddamn, Jared. Please… If you don’t do something soon, I’m gonna get up off this table and take my turn to torture you.”_
> 
> _Jared’s eyes darken. “Ooh, promise?”_
> 
> _Jensen just glares his determination at him._
> 
> _In reply, Jared leans down and mouths Jensen’s dick, tongue laving over the head, humming in pleasure around him._
> 
> _Jensen’s head falls onto the table with a thunk. “Fucking hell!” After being neglected for so long, having Jared’s mouth on his cock is almost too intense, and Jensen’s entire body throbs._
> 
> _Jared hums again, the low vibration of his voice resonating through Jensen, and then he mouths lower, down over Jensen’s balls._
> 
> _“Hold your knees up for me, babe,” Jared says, pushing Jensen’s thighs up and back._
> 
> _Jensen jolts with anticipation. “Oh, fuck, Jare, fuck yeah…” He fucking loves it when Jared—_
> 
> _Everything goes white when Jared licks over Jensen’s hole, and Jensen has to force himself to breathe. This is one of his absolute favorite sex acts, to give or receive—it’s so incredibly intimate and sensual, not to mention fucking filthy hot. Jared never fails to blow his mind when he rims Jensen, and Jensen can feel himself stumbling toward oblivion._
> 
> _Jared circles Jensen’s entrance, tongue gliding over the tender skin, pressing inward, and pleasure radiates out, shivers down his legs, and then rockets through Jensen unfettered._
> 
> _Jensen arches on the table, tries to spread his legs apart just a little bit more, to give Jared better access._
> 
> _Each stroke of Jared’s tongue across his entrance sends a spear of lust straight up his cock, precome collecting at the tip._
> 
> _“God, Jensen, look at you,” Jared murmurs against his skin, lips caressing Jensen’s most private place. His paint-covered hands palm each cheek and press Jensen open even further, and his tongue dives deeper, tripping the edge of Jensen’s rim. Jensen’s breath hitches with the intensity of it. His fingers clench around the edge of the table, twitching with the urge to plunge into Jared’s hair and twine it into knots as he directs Jared’s tongue to go deeper—_
> 
> _“Oh Jesus fuck!” Jensen writhes as Jared starts outright fucking him with his tongue. He’s twisting again, winding tighter and tighter, and good fucking god, is it even possible for Jared’s tongue to go that deep? Orgasm pools low in his pelvis, simmering but not yet ready to boil over._
> 
> _Suddenly, it all stops._
> 
> _Jensen’s eyes snap open. He heaves in a shocked breath, tingles prickling all over his skin as the rush recedes. Jared stands up, wiping his face, while Jensen pants heavily and collects his scattered brain cells. He was so close… It takes a long couple of minutes for him to calm himself down, the fire inside him banked and ready to flare again in a second. “Jared?” His voice is ragged, gravelly like he’d been deep-throating Jared for hours._
> 
> _Jared’s dimples plunge deep as he gives Jensen a smug, satisfied smirk. “I love doing that to you.”_
> 
> _“Mmm, I love it when you do that, too.” Jensen lets his legs down, muscles still twitching randomly, and sits up to kiss Jared, mouths open and wet. “Is it my turn now?”_
> 
> _Jared nods as he bites Jensen’s lower lip. “Whatever you want, wherever you want, Jen.”_
> 
> _Jensen ponders for a moment—Jared took him here, in his workspace, so Jensen decides to return the favor._
> 
> _He hops off the table and walks Jared across the floor even as the room shifts around them, and Jared backs right into Jensen’s desk in his office. “You got me on your work table… I’ve always wanted to fuck you over my desk.”_
> 
> _Jared’s brows rise, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, are you going to punish me for disrupting your class, Professor? Give me a private lesson?”_
> 
> _Jensen is thrown for a second, images flashing through his mind of various students who’ve all been in his office at one point or another, a crunch of gears jamming in his head as his work life intrudes on his dream life with Jared. Jensen palms his face, a snigger escaping him, followed immediately by a soft groan. “Seriously, Jared? Going the ‘hot for teacher’ route?”_
> 
> _Jared blushes, his shoulders inching up as he gives a lopsided, sheepish grin. “Thought I’d give it a try. Guess it didn’t quite work.”_
> 
> _Jensen laughs and kisses him. “I love you, you ginormous dork.”_
> 
> _Jared’s large hands come up to rest on his cheeks, and he sucks softly on Jensen’s bottom lip, murmuring, “Love you too,” into his mouth._
> 
> _Oh yes, that’s lovely enough to remind him of what he was doing. “All I need is you and the desk.”_
> 
> _“Don’t forget the lube.” Jared’s mock-serious, holding up a bottle supplied by the dream. “We need lube, and the lube needs love, too.”_
> 
> _Jensen throws his head back and closes his eyes, failing to contain his utter joy. How is he so lucky that this is his life? “Thanks for reminding me,” he says, snatching the bottle out of Jared’s hand. “It’s my turn.”_
> 
> _Jared turns around and bends over the desk, propping himself up on his elbows and arching his back. “Was this how you imagined it? Me stretched out over your desk like this, you pounding into me and bruising my hips against the edge?” He looks over his shoulder at Jensen, flirt in his every feature._
> 
> _Jensen eyes the long line of his spine, the fine muscles wrapping his shoulders and ribcage, then follows the path his eyes had blazed with his hand. The banked desire inside him flares again, neediness making him tremble. “Oh, yes, Jared. That and more.”_
> 
> _Palm spread wide, Jensen strokes up Jared’s backbone, fingers clenching in his hair as he pulls Jared’s head back sharply, exposing the long line of his throat. He kicks Jared’s feet out wide and pushes his hips down to the table edge so he’s at the same level as Jensen’s groin. It has to be a little awkward for Jared—he’s too tall for the desk and his legs are bent in such a way that only his toes can grip the floor. Jensen rocks on his heels with another throb of desire._
> 
> _Perfect._
> 
> _Jared stretches to grip the edge of the desk, flattening his chest to the surface and arching his pelvis backwards. “Then do it. I want you to.”_
> 
> _Jensen pours lube on his fingers and notices that his chest is once again bare. Jared’s painting must have dissolved at some point after Jensen took over the dream. He hadn’t noticed its disappearance, and he resolves then that they will have to do that again in real life, so they can photograph it._
> 
> _As he presses two slick fingers inside of Jared, Jensen’s entire body hums with anticipation. He’s aching, tense, and he knows once he’s inside Jared, it isn’t going to take long for the pleasure to roar over him._
> 
> _“Ungh, yeah. That’s good.” Jared rocks on Jensen’s fingers, stretching himself, and Jensen adds another finger while his other hand reaches around Jared’s hip to cup his balls. They feel heavy, full, and Jared whimpers. “Oh, please, Jen.”_
> 
> _“Yeah.” Jensen withdraws his fingers and slicks himself up, brushing lightly over his swollen flesh. He can’t wait any longer for them to be joined again, here, together. Lining up, Jensen presses into Jared in a slow, unrelenting thrust, groaning as heat clenches around him, gripping and shuddering._
> 
> _“Oh, fuck, yeah…” Jared moans._
> 
> _Jensen has to take a breath, rein himself in—goddamn, Jared feels good. Jared looks over his shoulder, eyes blown dark and biting his lip. When their eyes meet, Jensen feels their connection intensify. “Jared,” he breathes, rocking his hips closer, deeper, and he’s on the verge of melting into his husband._
> 
> _Jared arches and twists backward to meet him in a kiss over his shoulder, sucking gently on Jensen’s bottom lip. “Yes._ Yes _,” and Jensen knows Jared feels it, too._
> 
> _This._ This _. This is them, this is who they are, so fundamentally, inextricably bound together, and it’s never going to change, never going to go away. They are forever._
> 
> _“Love you,” Jensen whispers into Jared’s mouth._
> 
> _“Love you.” Jared lies back down on the desk, right hand reaching up to grab the edge, left coming down to clasp Jensen’s hand, fingers twining together._
> 
> _Jensen moves then, thrusts slowly, feeling for the right angle. He watches Jared’s body flex around him, his flushed-pink skin stretching around Jensen’s cock, and he bites his lip as he wills himself to hold off just a little longer. Jared has to come first._
> 
> _Jensen leans forward, riding into Jared at a steeper angle, and when Jared keens, fingers clenching at the desk and Jensen’s hand, he knows he’s got the right spot. “I love the way you squeeze so fucking tight around me. Lets me know I’ve got it right.”_
> 
> _“Ungh, so right, Jen. More.”_
> 
> _Jensen jabs in more forcefully, and Jared whines, tightens impossibly, muscles fluttering around his cock. “So close, aren’t you? Rimming me like that really turned you on, didn’t it?”_
> 
> _“Oh fuck! God, yes.” Jared pushes against Jensen, meeting his thrusts._
> 
> _“You nearly made me come just from tonguing my ass, it felt so fucking good. Next time you’ll have to do it, rim me until I come just from your tongue, and then fuck me hard while I’m loose and wet.”_
> 
> _Jared groans; a shudder visibly trips down his back, body twisting into each drive of Jensen’s hips. “Fuck, Jensen… your voice… so close…”_
> 
> _Using his free hand, Jensen caresses over Jared’s ass cheek, then curls his fingers around a sharp hip bone, fingers diving low to wrap around Jared’s cock, stroking down over tight, heavy balls._
> 
> _“Oh shit, yes, please…”_
> 
> _Jared is shaking now, his entire body trembling, and Jensen’s climax begins to climb and claw up his spine, pleasure fizzing in the arches of his feet and spiking up the insides of his legs. He closes his hand tightly around Jared’s dick, fists him up and down, sliding fingers over the wet, slippery tip._
> 
> _“Want you to come for me now, Jared.” He thrusts in hard and steady, hand stripping Jared’s cock, and it only takes a few more seconds before Jared explodes, shuddering violently, come flooding over Jensen’s hand, his muscles milking Jensen’s cock in a sharp rhythm. Jared howls with the pleasure of it, unintelligible syllables falling from his lips, shifting into a long whine as Jensen doesn’t relent._
> 
> _Jensen bellows as his orgasm rockets through him, electric pleasure scorching his insides and shooting out of him, and he continues to pound into Jared, drawing it out for both of them as long as he can._
> 
> _The rush slowly recedes, and Jensen collapses forward onto Jared, who is still twitching beneath him. They lie there panting heavily, Jensen breathing in the salt and sweat of his husband as they gradually come down._
> 
> _“Oh my god, Jensen,” Jared’s voice is low and hoarse._
> 
> _“I second that opinion.”_
> 
> _Jared sighs, indolent and happy and sated, and the room blurs, softness surrounding them. When Jensen opens his eyes, he sees that Jared has shifted their dream into their bedroom back at home. They’re still joined, but now they are lying sprawled across their California King bed._
> 
> _Jensen smiles. Of all the places they can go in their dreams, they so often end up right back here, at home. He supposes it says something about them, about how this is where they are most comfortable together._
> 
> _He disengages from Jared, aftershocks still firing randomly, and calls from the dream a warm, moist hand towel to clean them both._
> 
> _Jared hums when Jensen is finished and rolls over, tucking his body in next to Jensen and tangling their legs together. “I’m surprised we didn’t wake up. Usually if it gets that intense, we wake up and finish each other off.”_
> 
> _Jensen tugs a sheet over them, then settles in closer, looping an arm under Jared’s. “I don’t want to wake up yet.” Not when it’s been this long without their shared dreams—Jensen wants to prolong every second of them together here that he can._
> 
> _Jared’s eyes crinkle a little. “Yeah, me neither.”_
> 
> _Jensen kisses him, because he wants to and because he can. Jared opens to him, tongue sliding into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen can hardly breathe for how amazing he feels right now._
> 
> _“You sure look mighty pleased with yourself,” Jared comments._
> 
> _Jensen laughs softly. He doesn’t try to hide his smile. “I have good reason, don’t I?”_
> 
> _Jared waggles his eyebrows. “That you do. You got your parents back, got to see your new baby niece and your brother and sister, and we finally got our dreams back. All in one weekend. Not to mention the incredible sex.”_
> 
> _Jensen cards his fingers through Jared’s hair and brushes his nose over his cheekbones. “Mmm, very incredible.”_
> 
> _“Hah. Yeah, you got good reasons. You are allowed to look pleased with yourself.”_
> 
> _“Oh, I’m_ allowed _? I have your royal permission?”_
> 
> _Jared barely holds back a grin—his dimples flash even as he attempts to look imperious. “Yes, good subject, His Highness King Jared gives you his royal permission to look smug, well-fucked, and blissed-out.”_
> 
> _Jensen snorts and reaches down to pinch Jared’s ass._
> 
> _Jared glares. “Ow! You brute! How_ dare _you! Guards! Seize this man and tie him up naked in my royal bedchamber so that I may do unspeakable things to him!”_
> 
> _Jensen climbs on top of Jared and shuts him up with his tongue. Jared fights back, rolling them over and pinning Jensen’s arms to the bed as he kisses him savagely. A breathless few minutes later, they break apart, laughing._
> 
> _As Jared shifts off of Jensen and lies back on the bed, Jensen is so profoundly relieved he could cry. This is his Jared, his goofy dork of a husband, and now that he’s got hindsight goggles on, he can see just how stressed and distant Jared has been over the last couple of months, and just how disconnected they had become._
> 
> _“Hey, it’s okay,” Jared assures him. “We’re here now.”_
> 
> _“Am I that transparent?” Jensen figures his thoughts must have been visible on his face._
> 
> _Jared nods, hands coming up to thread into Jensen’s hair. “Yeah, you are to me. We’re okay now.”_
> 
> _“I’m sorry I got so caught up in my own shit that I didn’t recognize what was happening to you, Jared. I knew we were both busy and stressed, and I wasn’t paying enough attention to you or to us. I’m sorry.”_
> 
> _Jared shakes his head. “I’m to blame, too. It wasn’t just you. I should have talked to you about what I was dealing with. But I didn’t want to bother you when you had so much going on.”_
> 
> _“We both know better now, right?” They can’t let this happen again; they can’t let themselves get so far apart again._
> 
> _Jared kisses him softly. “Yes, we do. We’re going to be alright. We’re going to talk to each other, and we’re not going to take our dreams for granted anymore.”_
> 
> _“It’s going to be good for us, I think. Have our talking dates every week. It can only make us stronger.”_
> 
> _Jared hums in agreement and nestles closer, head resting on Jensen’s shoulder._
> 
> _They breathe together in silence, and Jensen lets his mind wander. At dinner the evening before, he’d felt content, so much closer to complete than he had for a very long time. It was amazing to be in the same room as his parents, calmly eating dinner and getting to know each other again. But now, that tiny piece he’d been missing was back. Now he knows that his connection with Jared is solid, unbreakable, permanent._
> 
> _“It still amazes me, actually,” he says after a few minutes. “It all went better than I ever imagined, you know?”_
> 
> _Jared’s fingers stroll up Jensen’s sternum. “I knew it would be okay.” His voice is sincere, not smug._
> 
> _“How did you know?” Jensen had been half expecting—okay, mostly expecting—the conversation with his parents to turn into a screaming match, for any chance of reconciliation to die a horrible death. But Jared had been relentlessly optimistic about the visit._
> 
> _Jared props his head up on his hand, looking Jensen in the face. The light is dimmer now, late evening sunshine, and a few strands of Jared’s hair glint red. “Well, I knew it would be difficult. You can’t just sweep ten years of pain and not talking to each other under a rug, you know? You’ve been holding all this hurt inside you for years, Jensen.”_
> 
> _Jensen starts to object, but Jared places a finger over his lips. “I know. You’ve done your best to leave it aside and go on with your life, and you’ve done a wonderful job of it. You let go of as much of your anger as possible, accepted the situation, and you were happy. But that didn’t mean the injury wasn’t still there, that it didn’t still hurt. And when you told me what your father said to you, how sincerely he apologized to you over the phone, I knew. I knew he was being honest, and I knew you needed to take this opportunity to get it all out, to hear their side of it and tell them yours, and you_ needed _to hear them apologize. And I knew they needed to apologize to you, too.”_
> 
> _Jensen gazes at his husband, in awe._
> 
> _Jared gives him half a smile. “I knew it would be difficult, and it would hurt, but it would be cathartic, you know? And while I wasn’t certain how it would all work out exactly, or if you’d be willing to forgive them, I did know that seeing your parents would either give you the closure you needed to finally let go of them, or it would be the start of a reconciliation. Either way, you’d be okay.”_
> 
> _Jensen’s throat feels tight, and his breath hitches. “Jared…” He has no idea how to begin expressing what he feels. “I love you,” he says, because it’s the truth, and it encompasses everything in his heart._
> 
> _Jared kisses him again, and Jensen feels his entire body responding, desire building again, emotions ping-ponging through him._
> 
> _When they stop for breath, Jared’s eyes are once again dark, thin rings of brilliant hazel around wide pupils. Mischief creeping back onto his face, Jared once again takes on his haughty air. “Of course you love me, peasant, I am your king, your liege lord, and we have bestowed you with our royal advice.”_
> 
> _Jensen gives him a squinty eyed smirk at his use of the Royal We, grateful beyond words for Jared lightening the mood. “Oh, yes, mighty King Jared, how could I ever have doubted your wisdom?”_
> 
> _Jared nods, imperious. “My word is law, my word is truth, and you have done well to accept it, plebian.”_
> 
> _“What, the truth that you’re a giant dork?” Jensen pokes him in the ribs._
> 
> _Jared lets out a guffaw, breaking character as he bats Jensen’s hand away. “And what does it say about you that you married me?”_
> 
> _“That I’m a genius, that’s what. Either that or I’m incredibly lucky.”_
> 
> _Jared’s face softens, his expression turning hungry once again. “I think we’re_ both _lucky, Jensen.”_
> 
> _Jensen can’t disagree with that, and he pulls Jared’s face toward his for another kiss. It quickly turns heated, hot tongues and teeth and wandering hands, and Jensen can’t get close enough. Jared rolls on top of him, hard and wanting, and yeah, they’re definitely going for round two. Jensen knows they’re gonna wake up sticky and sore and glued to the hotel bed sheets, but he doesn’t care._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Extended Author's Notes:**  
>  This story is over a year in the making. I had originally planned on doing it for _last year's_ big bang, but I got a third of the way into it and figured out that I had no idea what Alan sounded like. So, instead of writing this fic, I did the timestamp _A Fork in the Road_ , and then later last year, the 36K word timestamp _Candied Yams and Sticky Conversations_ , which I needed to do to get myself into Jensen's head. For some reason, when I wrote _Orbit_ , finding Jared's voice was effortless. I have struggled from the start with Jensen's voice, though. Still don't think I've got it quite right. And that really makes no sense to me, because between Jensen and Jared, I think I'm a lot more like Jensen. *shrugs*
> 
> I know I mentioned my betas earlier, but I want to take another opportunity to thank them here.
> 
> Pimmie, you have been with me since I was a third of the way through _Orbit_ , and you have become my plot guru and my rock and the person I need to go to when I start drowning myself in schmoop. Over the last two years of working with you practically every weekend, I have come to think of you as a good friend, even when we don't agree on something. I appreciate your forthrightness, your bluntness, and your willingness to tell me when I really don't have it right. Because you're usually right. I have you to thank for the fact that this story was more tightly, carefully plotted than _Orbit_ , which kind of got away from me, and on which I wish I had been able to do one more round of revisions. But with your help, we plotted this story out in detail, trimmed out all the unnecessary parts, and made it a much stronger story, in my opinion. I cannot thank you enough. ♥ I really look forward to continuing our working relationship into new stories, new universes, and to working with you on your own fic.
> 
> To my other betas: starlitshore, rurounihime, and clex_monkie89, I am so grateful to all of you for all the work you did for me on this story. The detailed reviews, staying up late to power through it one more time, working in editing my fic into your busy schedules... I would send you all flowers if I could. Thank you for helping me trim out my over-verboseness, helping me make my clues more prominent, and for cheering me on when I got insecure. Y'all are amazing. ♥
> 
> This is likely to be the last story I post in this verse for a while. I do have one or two other timestamps in mind, plus a potential third major story, but I've been breathing this verse for over two years, and I need a break. I'm going to start working on a new story, one that I'm quite excited about, a sci-fi J2 space mystery/adventure! Don't expect to see that any time soon, though. It's going to be long, and it will take me a while to even plot it out, let alone write it. But I do expect that I'll revisit this verse in the future sometime, write up the other timestamps that I have in mind, and if I can work out enough plot for it, maybe a third story. We'll see.  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> **Soundtrack: Music From _The Space Between Your Heart and Mine_**  
> 
> 
> This is an eclectic mix of rock, alternative, and pop. All of the songs seem to me to relate in some way to some aspect of the story. Some songs are particular to Jensen, some to Jared, and the rest to them both. I've not put together a music mix before, so I hope this collection works well. :D
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> **Track Listing**  
> 
> 
> 01 _The Space Between_ ◇ Dave Matthews Band  
>  02 _I Miss You_ ◇ Blink 182  
>  03 _Shot Of A Gun_ ◇ Kane*  
>  04 _4 A.M._ ◇ Our Lady Peace  
>  05 _Closer_ ◇ Travis  
>  06 _Take A Picture_ ◇ Filter  
>  07 _Back To The Middle_ ◇ Vedera  
>  08 _Nothing Else Matters_ ◇ Metallica  
>  09 _Blood On The Ground_ ◇ Incubus  
>  10 _Ever The Same_ ◇ Rob Thomas  
>  11 _Bloody Mary (Nerve Endings)_ ◇ Silversun Pickups  
>  12 _Second Chance_ ◇ Shinedown  
>  13 _Crash Into Me_ ◇ Dave Matthews Band  
>  14 _Lucky Man_ ◇ The Verve  
>  15 _I'm With You_ ◇ The Stills  
>  16 _So Far Away_ ◇ Staind  
>  17 _Dreams_ ◇ The Cranberries  
>  18 _Never Gonna Be Alone_ ◇ Nickelback  
> 
> 
> *Note: This is not a Christian Kane song. It is by a Dutch band of the same name.
> 
>   
> [Download the Soundtrack Here!](http://db.tt/xgBYilPX)  
> 


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